




■y %-^y v^*y <v^v v 




'o»V 



**** 

^ v 





'J>V 



A 


















^ * ° « ° ° ^ 



A 1 









• * 













**.*. \V 








0° .<^% °o 









* C 1 1 



> ^ °V -SSI®* ** ^ 




4 o 






^^ 









0* ,••• 


















^ ^ 

W 




**0* 



s V 
















A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 



A VOICE FROM 
THE CONGO 

COMPRISING STORIES, ANECDOTES, 
AND DESCRIPTIVE NOTES 

BY 

HERBERT WARD 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS, 
SCULPTURE, AND DRAWINGS BY THE AUTHOR 



" Savages are but shades of ourselves " 
Ovid 



NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1910 



-> 



< 



c* 



■ 



^ 



<}, 



\ 



COPTBIGHT, 1910, BT 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



Published October, 1910 




CLA273443 



So 
MY WIFE 



PREFACE 

It was no high motive that took me to Africa. I 
went there simply and solely to gratify my love of 
adventure. At the age of fifteen I commenced my 
travels, and during the course of my wanderings 
in New Zealand, Australia, and in unknown regions 
of northern Borneo, I experienced many ups and 
downs. These vicissitudes only whetted my appe- 
tite, and led me to Central Africa, where I passed the 
five most impressionable years of my life. 

I took to Africans from the first. I was young, full 
of life and high spirits, and regarded every one I met 
as a friend. My confidence was sometimes checked, 
but never shaken. With youthful exuberance of 
spirits I fraternised with every one I met, and I 
soon found there was a fund of good-humour in 
the African composition. There was a good side 
to even the most villainous-looking savage, and I 
generally found it. 

In this free and easy way I entered into the lives of 
the natives. My sympathy, which was with them at 
the commencement, ripened with time. They ap- 



viii PREFACE 

pealed strongly to me by reason of their simplicity 
and directness, their lack of scheming or plotting, 
and by the spontaneity of everything they did. 
Hence my efforts to learn their language, in order 
that I might know them better. 

Commencing in this casual manner I found myself 
gradually drawn into serious reflections, and I became 
imbued with a profound sympathy for African human 
nature. 

H. W. 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

The author desires to express his acknowledgments 
to Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons of New York, and 
Messrs. Cassell and Company of London, for their 
permission to reprint portions of some of his articles 
already published by them. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Village Scenes 1 

Sketches of Native Character 9 

An Elephant Hunt 19 

Yoka the Sorcerer 30 

The Monkey People 35 

Nganga Nkissi 52 

The Funeral of an African Chief 59 

Tippo Tib 66 

Adventures of Captain Deane 75 

A Forest Drama 84 

suliman the slaver 96 

The Tale of a Tusk of Ivory 113 

Stories About Animals 138 

Oddities 150 

A Village Romance 166 

zi 



xii CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Stanley 177 

The Words of Uledi Pagani 193 

The Impressions of Bulelu 201 

Souvenirs 207 

Reflections 223 

Stories of White Men 231 

Congo Characteristics 253 

Language 264 

Superstitions 270 

In General 277 

Cannibalism 307 

Envoi 319 

Index 323 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

A Congo warrior (photogravure) Frontispiece y 

FACING PAGE 

A Congo group 2 *"" 

A Bakongo woman 10 

A Congo boy 14 ' 

A study 14 

Group at Mobunga 18 "" 

Study of dead elephant 20 

A sketch at Mobunga 24 

The sorcerer 32 - 

A BatekS 34 ' 

Idols, Manyema 36 

An Aruimi type 38 

Nyanga Nkissi, the witch doctor 54 

Idols, Manyema 56 • 

Witch rattle, Bangala 58 - 

Bolobo 60 . 

Bolobo 62 

xiii 



xiv ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE 

Tippo Tib 68 

The Congo at Mongolia 76 

A sketch at Yambinga . . 94 

Village scene, Aruimi 118 

Native fighting knife and sheath, Manyema 122 

Native -fighting knife and sheath, Rua 136 

Studies by the Author 152 

A Congo artist 160 

A Congo idyll 168 

Bust of Bakongo girl 170 

Native village, Bangala . . 174 

Stanley Pool 180 

The Author on the Upper Congo, Emin Pacha Relief Expedition 184 

Stanley Falls, showing Wenya method of fishing 188 

Belelu 202 

An Arab slaver 202 

Native type, Basoko 202 

A Congo chief 204 

Congo carriers . 210 

Carriers on the march 212 

A vine bridge, Lower Congo 214 

A corner of the Author's studio 218 



ILLUSTRATIONS xv 

FACING PAGE 

A Congo carrier 220 , 

Native -fighting knife, Mangalla 224 . 

Mementos 228 

Native fighting knife, Aruimi 228 

Portrait group 232 

The caravan path at Mpalaballa 240 

Congo arms 250 

Congo arms 254 

Congo implements 256 

Fighting knives, Kasai 258 

Ribba fighting knife 258 

Ngombe, Aruimi, Aruimi (three native hats) 260 

Bopoto 266 

Fetish, Lower Congo, used for registering vows 268 

Powder flask (Lower Congo) 270 

Pillow (Manyema) 270 

Idol (Manyema) 270 

Idols in the collection of the Author (Manyema and Lower Congo) 272 

The idol-maker 274 

Metal collar, Malinga River . . . c 278 

"Molua" metal collar 278 

Aruimi metal anklet iron 278 



xvi ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING PAGE 



Native chair or back rest, Wenya 282 

Native mash, Rua 282 

Head of Pigmy chief - . . 288 

A Lukolela girl with firewood 292 

M'Bichi {musical instrument, Lower Congo) ........ 298 

A Bangala 302 

A type of the Lomami 302 

Human teeth necklace and bracelet (Aruimi) 308 

Bangala 312 

A type of the Lomami 312 

Python 316 



A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 



VILLAGE SCENES 

Ibenza is the name of the village. It is situated in 
the heart of the great African forest, fifteen hun- 
dred miles from ocean shores. The population is 
small, for the native communities of this wild region 
are wanting in the elements of union. The women 
outnumber the men to the extent of fully three to 
one; the men being killed fighting, whereas the 
women are less exposed to danger, by reason of their 
marketable value. To study the doings of a single 
day in this village may serve to give an insight into 
the general conditions of native life. 

It is early morning — dark, damp and cold. A 
white mist hangs heavily over the ground, envelop- 
ing the huts and all the lower growths of foliage in 
ghostly mystery. The air is laden with the sickly 
pungent odour of decaying vegetation. There are 
sounds, often mournful in character, befitting the 
music of the wild forest. The incessant singing of 
mosquitoes is maddening to the ear. The hoarse 
croaking of frogs and the strange and varied utter- 
ances of animal life impress one as sounding strangely 
weird and discordant in the gloom. 



2 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

In the long line of grass huts, where the natives 
are sleeping, one hears occasional sounds of heavy 
breathing; over yonder a woman with a crying baby 
in her arms, crouches over the dying embers of a fire. 

The first ray of dawn is heralded by the plaintive 
wail of guinea-fowl, as they flap their wings and fly 
from their roosting-places in search of food. 

Men and women crawl forth from their tiny grass 
huts, yawning and stretching themselves after their 
night's deep slumber. The morning mists soon dis- 
appear and the village gradually becomes animated. 
Children, light-hearted and joyous, commence to 
gambol in every direction; some with their mimic 
bows and arrows shoot at the prowling pariah dogs. 

When the sun is well above the horizon, rising in 
a cloudless sky and shedding a genial warmth upon 
the earth, all Nature wears a joyful aspect. Num- 
bers of chirping tiny birds, whose resplendent 
plumage glistens in the bright sunshine, suddenly 
appear from the dark gloomy forest and flit around 
the bushes in the village clearing. Large zephyr- 
winged butterflies and others all gorgeous and ra- 
diant with brilliant colour soar gracefully above 
the refuse-heaps. The village scene is in striking 
contrast to these fairy-like surroundings; for the 
grass conical-shaped huts are still sodden with heavy 
night dew, the narrow paths are littered with dead 
leaves and rubbish, and the native home accords 







A Congo group 

From a bronze group by the Author 



VILLAGE SCENES 3 

well with the careless unrestrained nature of its in- 
habitants. 

The morning meal, consisting of a few ears of 
maize and half-smoked fish, is soon over. Then 
follows the departure of nearly all the women; they 
vanish into their forest plantations in quest of food 
and firewood. The men gradually assemble together 
in front of the chief's hut to hear the public discus- 
sions of the day. 

These palaver meetings are dear to all Central 
Africans. They take keen delight in oratory, which 
may in fact be said to constitute one of their im- 
portant arts. They talk fluently and employ many 
metaphorical and flowery expressions. Possessing a 
natural gift of rude eloquence, it is greatly enhanced 
in effect by the soft inflections and the harmonious 
euphony of their language; they reason well and dis- 
play great aptitude for debate. 

The case before the court to-day relates to the 
death of a young slave girl. She was recently seized 
by a crocodile, while bathing in the river. About 
two hundred men and boys in semi-nakedness, seat 
themselves in a circle in front of their chief, a large- 
boned truculent-looking man, decorated with heavy 
iron anklets and bracelets, sitting cross-legged upon 
a leopard skin. 

The former owner of the deceased slave steps 
forward; striking his spear blade downwards in the 



4 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

ground in front of him, he produces in his right 
hand a number of small pieces of split bamboo. 
Speaking fluently and with simple gesture he caps 
each point of his oration by selecting one of his small 
sticks and placing it upon the ground in front of 
him. In brief, his speech relates first to his early life, 
and then in monotonous rotation, and with a careless 
indifference to relevancy, he enumerates all the most 
memorable and favourable events of his own life, 
down to the time when he purchased the deceased 
slave. He then relates the history of the unfortu- 
nate slave-girl's untimely end. 

" Death is not a natural event," he continues, in 
the flowery idiom of his language. "Some person 
with an evil heart has been in communication with 
the crocodile that deprived me of my slave. An evil 
spirit, born of envy or malice, has entered the soul of 
some person in this village and has been communi- 
cated to the crocodile. It may even be that some re- 
vengeful man or woman has actually become trans- 
formed into the shape of a crocodile to do me harm. 
An evil spirit has been at work, and I call upon our 
Nganga, our wise and clever witch-doctor, to seek it." 

His speech is ended, and upon the ground at his 
feet lie the row of small sticks which have served as 
memoranda. 

No sooner has the first speech concluded than 
another orator commences, with a different line of 



VILLAGE SCENES 5 

argument; suggesting that the slave girl had offended 
the great Evil Spirit, and that the angry "Ndoki" 
had sent his emissary the crocodile to punish her. 

Other men, with yet more strangely superstitious 
views, hasten to gain the attention of the company; 
the discussion grows heated, and voices are sud- 
denly raised in anger. An imminent brawl is how- 
ever diverted by the timely appearance of several 
women upon the scene. They carry large earthen- 
ware jars of fermented sugar-cane juice. The 
hubbub ceases; the natives forgetful of their dif- 
ferences crowd forward and drink the intoxicating 
liquid and their voices assume a more friendly tone. 
The sun is now at its zenith and the heat is intense. 

Suddenly all eyes are directed towards a forest 
path. A jingle of iron bells, a stamping of feet, and 
from a cloud of dust there springs the grotesque 
figure of the Fetish Man. Wild-cat skins dangle 
from his waist. His eyelids are whitened with 
chalk. His body is smeared with the blood of a 
fresh-killed fowl. His feather head-dress flutters 
as he dances. His charms and metal ornaments 
clank and jingle as he bounds and springs hither and 
thither somewhat after the manner of a harlequin. 

Wildly he dances, stamping his feet and wriggling 
his body as though his waist was a hinge; the com- 
pany, squatting round him in a circle, meanwhile 
chant a monotonous dirge-like song and clap their 



6 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

hands in unison. At length, bathed in perspira- 
tion, dusty and bedraggled, the Fetish Man with 
a gesture of his hand commands silence. With 
high prancing steps and swaying shoulders he 
passes slowly around the company directing search- 
ing looks into many faces. In a falsetto voice, still 
swaying his body, he states that he has come to seek 
an evil spirit, that he seeks the person who is guilty 
of having taken the form of a crocodile to kill a 
woman. 

"It is a woman," says he with a fiendish grin, 
changing the tone of his voice from shrill falsetto to 
deep bass, "a woman, an old woman, who was envi- 
ous of the good favour shown to the dead girl by her 
master." 

Stooping low, he places his ear to the ground, and 
carries on an imaginary conversation. He pretends 
to consult a spirit in the earth. Then rising, he 
walks with measured prancing steps in the direc- 
tion of a poor forlorn-looking woman. Pointing 
towards her, he makes a hideous grimace and in a 
sepulchral tone of voice he condemns her as being 
the guilty person. The wretched woman shrieks, 
springs to her feet, and turns to flee. Too late. A 
spear instantly glistens in the air, it strikes her in 
the back, and with a moan of pain she falls heavily 
to the ground. During the ensuing uproar her body 
is dragged away towards the river amid deafening 



VILLAGE SCENES 7 

yells and shouts. They then rejoice, these simple 
people, that an evil spirit has been appeased. 

The noise gradually subsides, the village paths 
become deserted, it is the midday period of idleness 
and the natives sleep. All becomes silent and tran- 
quil. Even the birds and insects seek a sheltered 
spot. The sun pours forth a fierce heat, with a 
glaring light, and the thatched roofs of the huts 
glisten as though covered with snow. When the 
shadows lengthen, life again awakens. The men 
rest their heads upon their wives' knees, to have 
their hair dressed. The women deftly comb and 
plait the crisp woolly hair into braids and points 
with the aid of a long iron skewer and red palm 
oil. As an instance in proof of decoration being 
antecedent to dress, these people, living in a state 
of almost complete nudity, spend no inconsiderable 
portion of their lives in hair-dressing and in anointing 
their bodies with oil and cam-wood powder. 

As the sun sets, the women bring forth the evening 
meal of roasted plantains, boiled cassava root, half- 
smoked fish, with perhaps a bowl of roasted wood- 
worms, locusts, or white ants. The men eat at the 
doors of their huts; the women retire aside to eat, 
for etiquette in this distant land forbids women to eat 
in the presence of men. 

When it is dark and the fireflies sparkle round 
the bushes, a big wooden drum booms forth a sum- 



8 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

mons to the night dance. With gay shouts the 
people assemble together. Forming themselves into 
two rows they advance and recede with sinuous 
swaying movements, singing in full rich tones a 
rhythmical air, keeping time by clapping their hands 
and stamping their feet. Later on, the moon sheds 
a silvery light upon their metal ornaments and per- 
spiring bodies. The deep bass voices of the men 
and the high-pitched tones of the women echo in 
the forest, their naked feet shuffle and stamp 
upon the ground. The graceful palm-leaves and 
broad banana-leaves with their fine lines and curves 
resemble trellis-work against the clear night sky. 
A transparent blue smoke from the wood fires is oc- 
casionally wafted across the scene on the evening 
breeze. The scene is weird, the sounds are bar- 
baric, it is a picture of human life in an early stage. 
By midnight the dance is ended and all becomes 
hushed. Gaunt pariah dogs sneak about the vil- 
lage paths in search of food. At length they too 
grow drowsy, and curl their bodies in the white ashes 
of the expired fires. Occasionally a baby whines and 
cries; frogs croak and myriads of mosquitoes once 
more fill the night air with their music. 



SKETCHES OF NATIVE CHARACTER 

The best illustration of the naivete of the Congo 
character occurred to me at a place called Man- 
yanga. It was during the hottest part of the day, 
and I was sitting on the veranda of my grass- 
thatched hut gazing upon the troubled waters of the 
cataract region thinking of the particularly tragic 
incident which ended the life of Frank Pocock, per- 
haps the most tragic circumstance connected with 
Stanley's memorable journey across Africa, in the 
year 1877. From where I sat, I could see the troubled 
waters swirling and foaming below the huge rocks 
against which the poor brave fellow had been dashed 
to death. 

A party of natives returning from a market, 
wended their way towards me, and the spokesman 
by every persuasive power of speech endeavoured 
to sell me a skinny goat for treble its value. The 
interview ended abruptly, and a few minutes later I 
was watching the little party embarking in a canoe, 
paddling their way up stream, keeping close to the 
shore until they attained a point at which it was 



10 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

customary, but at all times hazardous, to steer the 
frail round-bottomed dug-out across to the north 
bank, a distance of some five hundred yards, through 
violent and ever-changing whirlpools. About half 
a mile below this point the water churned itself 
into foam as it swept over a succession of enormous 
rocks, and represented an ever-present danger to 
those who crossed the river. 

Listlessly at first, I watched the little party in 
their wobbling canoe until they had reached the 
critical part of their journey, the part at which they 
had to manoeuvre their canoe so as to escape the 
vortex of a powerful whirlpool. 

My apathy suddenly gave way to a feeling of 
keen apprehension, as I observed that they were 
being carried away, broadside on, in the swiftest 
part of the channel. The paddlers had evidently 
lost control, and the other members of the party ap- 
peared to be overcome by a sense of impending 
disaster, for they began to sway the canoe from side 
to side in their endeavours to aid the paddlers. 

By the time I reached the river's bank all was lost, 
for the canoe had sunk, and in its place were now 
merely a few black specks bobbing here and there, 
with occasionally an arm thrown up in wild despair. 

In a few minutes all was ended, and the poor 
fellows who had not been drowned at once were 
swept to perdition by the terrific force of the stream. 




; y 



^ 



A Bakongo woman 

Drawn by the Author 



SKETCHES OF NATIVE CHARACTER 11 

To my amazement, I perceived one individual who 
still kept afloat and who swam bravely back towards 
the south bank. Walking along the river side I kept 
pace with him as he swam, and the tension of watch- 
ing the poor man's efforts became acute. At the 
time, it seemed miraculous that he should have 
power enough to reach the shore, but he did. My 
surprise can be imagined when I found that a child, a 
chubby little boy of four or five years of age, was 
still clinging around the man's neck. 

Overcome by excitement and by admiration for the 
man's prowess, I aided him to land, and took the two 
survivors to my hut, where I collected everything I 
could lay my hands upon, likely to be considered 
valuable in the eyes of a native. At the same time 
as I presented the man with these modest gifts, I 
told him that he had that day performed a deed 
which would greatly please white men. I told him 
that he was a plucky fellow for having saved a help- 
less child from imminent death. He replied: 

"Yes, he is saved. I tried many times to shake 
him off, but he clung too tight!" 

Tony of Kabinda was the servant of a missionary. 
It was a generally accepted fact that Tony had a past. 
However, as mission interpreter he behaved himself 
with pious dignity, and became quite a power in the 
mission region. 



n A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

When hunting elephants in company with several 
head-men of a neighbouring village, Tony was anx- 
ious to have the game to himself, and shouted to the 
group of men in front of him, saying: 

"Get out of the way — get behind me. Let those 
who fear God shoot!" 

I once shot an old bull elephant in the forest near 
Ibenza. The occasion was one of joy to the natives. 
Within a few hours the mighty animal was reduced to 
a skeleton, and the village reeked of flesh. Satiated 
with meat, the natives gathered round my tent and 
asked to view the gun with which I had slain the ele- 
phant. The chief in particular was an interested audi- 
tor of my explanations and descriptions. In the midst 
of the interview, I was interrupted by one of my fol- 
lowers, the Zanzibari cook, who approached me, whin- 
ing in Kiswahili, a language unknown to the natives : 

"Ekh Bwana! Naona tabu sana Bwana." ("I am 
seeing much trouble, my master ; I am ill in my body.") 

Producing a bottle of pills from a small medicine- 
case, I administered one, as being a sufficiently pow- 
erful dose for any normal constitution. The Ibenza 
chief thereupon held out his hand, saying: 

"Maa, na kulinga." ("Give to me also from 
that bottle, O white man.") 

Being practically at the mercy of the natives, as 
I was travelling with but few followers, I deemed it 



SKETCHES OF NATIVE CHARACTER 13 

wise to humour the chief in such a small request 
and I presented him with a pill. 

" White man ! See ! You have given me but one," 
said he, with an air of dissatisfaction, rolling the pill 
in the palm of his hand. "Unto him who is your slave 
you have given one. Would you treat a chief as you 
treat your slave ? " 

For a moment I was taken by surprise. Then 
rising to the occasion I expressed regret for having 
appeared to slight his dignity, and to meet the 
exigencies of the situation I handed him three more 
pills. With a gratified smile the chief held forth 
the four small silver-coated pills in his massive 
hand in order that the assembled company should 
observe the manner in which I had recognised his 
distinction of rank, and calmly rolling them into his 
mouth, he deliberately munched and swallowed them 
with every appearance of pleasure. 

The following morning, at an early hour, I left the 
village, and started again upon my journey. Crowds 
of natives gathered around to bid me farewell, but 
in all the throng I failed to observe my friend the 
Ibenza chief. 

One day, whilst strolling in this same far-away 
village, my attention was attracted by the piteous 
moaning of a woman. I found her lying upon a 
heap of refuse, banana peelings, sweepings, fish- 



14 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

bones and rubbish, all seething in the hot sun. 
The poor creature appeared to be in great distress. 
Her body was smeared with blood and filth, and the 
flesh was literally torn from either side of her face, 
leaving her temples bare and raw. 

In her agony she had clawed and torn her flesh 
with her finger-nails. Her despair was indeed pitiful 
to behold and I sought to soothe her, but all in vain. 

Turning to a native who was standing by, I in- 
quired in the native language : 

" What ails this woman ? What manner of malady 
is this ? Quickly, tell me words to explain this." 

The savage shrugged his shoulders, and, with a 
scornful toss of his head, he replied : 

"That woman's baby died a few days ago. See! 
She bleeds herself with grief. That is all!" 

Grief! The pathos of the scene would have moved 
a heart of stone. There at my feet was a revelation of 
savage feeling, of love and grief, of the deep emotions 
that can be enjoyed and suffered by one even of a 
cruel, cannibal race. As a mother, this woman had 
cherished and loved her child; as a savage, ignorant 
of faith and forlorn she mourned her infant's death. 

It was evening, and we had travelled many miles 
that day in the fierce heat of the tropical sun. My 
carriers who were seated grouped around a cheerful 
log fire were recounting their different deeds of 




II 




J'l 



SKETCHES OF NATIVE CHARACTER 15 

valour. Said one: "I am the greatest buffalo-hunter 
in all Ngembi." Another man related the many 
valiant deeds which he had performed in war. 
Another told of how he had faced an infuriated ele- 
phant, and killed it with a charge of stones fired 
from his old flint-lock gun. 

Suddenly the wood crackled, shedding a shower 
of sparks, and the alacrity with which these bold- 
hearted hunters took flight was remarkable. 

Although the sense of gratitude, in our ordinarily 
accepted meaning of the term, is rarely met with 
among Central Africans, it must not be thought that 
this virtue is foreign to their nature. As an illus- 
tration however of the absence of a sense of grati- 
tude, I must cite an instance of a man who suffered 
from a form of skin disease. By dint of simple 
remedies I succeeded in purifying the man's blood, 
and, in fact, the patient proved so amenable to my 
treatment that at the end of a month I told him that 
he was perfectly cured and might go home. 

"Yes, O white man," he replied, "but what will 
you pay me? I have been with you many days, a 
whole moon has passed, what will you pay me for 
all that time?" 

* >H jfc * »fc 

With reference to the native's disregard for hu- 
man life, it must be remembered that the motive 



16 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

does not always proceed from mere malignity of 
nature. Sometimes it is due to superstition, some- 
times to fear. The people are frequently over- 
ready to attack through dread of being attacked. 
They kill lest they should be killed. It is very true 
that a slight motive is often enough for taking hu- 
man life: but that does not prevent them — even the 
worst cannibal tribes — from having a disposition 
that is in some respects amiable, and very easily 
conciliated and amused. 

A man once fell from the scaffolding whilst en- 
gaged in cutting a tree. Spontaneously his friends 
all howled derisively at his misfortune. To a casual 
observer this incident might be noted down as yet 
another evidence of the callousness of their nature. 
More intimate association with the conditions of 
native life leads one to regard this incident from a 
different point of view. 

His friends laughed, not because they were amused 
at his misfortune, but because they were glad that 
the accident had not happened to themselves. This 
slight incident may serve to indicate the difficulties 
one has to contend with in attempting to record facts 
and to form opinions relating to the working of the 
African mind. 

***** 

It was in a market-place, and the inhabitants of all 
the country-side were there, buying, selling, haggling; 



SKETCHES OF NATIVE CHARACTER 17 

each individual talking incessantly, and quite indif- 
ferent as to whether any one listened. 

Presently I detected the sound of angry voices. 
Said the Chief of Fumba to the Chief of Lutete: 

"How poor are your people! A chief of people so 
poor is scarcely a chief at all. Do you not suffer 
from hunger? Are you not cold at night, because 
you have no cloth? And your dead, is it not hard 
to place them in the ground without any cloth around 
their bodies ? Your children, too — why, our slaves at 
Fumba own more wealth than you people of Lutete." 

In the course of a heated reply, I heard the Chief 
of Lutete allude to the forthcoming market of 
Nkandu. Said he: 

"Your words are the words of envy. At the 
Nkandu market we will show you that you lie, that 
your words are not true words. Wait! O chief! 
Wait for the next market day." 

This little dispute interested me, and I made a point 
of attending the next market. Everything went on as 
usual until noon. Suddenly I heard exclamations of 
astonishment and wonder. Hands were placed over 
open mouths in token of surprise, as the people gazed 
upon a long procession which slowly wended its way 
up the hill. These were the people of Lutete and they 
had come to answer the taunts of the Chief of Fumba 
by a parade of their wealth and possessions. 

There were probably two hundred men and women, 



18 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

and the chief who led them in person was most gor- 
geously attired. He carried a scarlet parasol encir- 
cled with gold lace. Upon his head he wore an 
English Lifeguardsman's helmet; around his neck 
he had the wooden circlet of a tambourine with its 
little brass cymbals jingling, and he wore next to 
his naked body the scarlet tunic of a militia uniform, 
which, together with some yards of multi-coloured 
cotton cloth wrapped round his waist, with the ends 
trailing in the dusty ground behind him, completed 
his dress. The costumes of his followers were no less 
amazing in their incongruity, and the whole formed a 
collection of so varied a nature as would have aroused 
the interest of a Houndsditch clothier. The parasols 
of all shades and descriptions ; the yards of cloth and 
cotton goods; the rows upon rows of glass beads 
which adorned the bodies of the women ; the jingling 
of the bells; the brave show of old flintlock guns; 
the queer uses to which some of the garments had 
been put: all made a picture not easily to be forgotten. 
Without a word being said, the procession en- 
tered the market-place, and in a most dignified man- 
ner marched through the throng of admiring and 
dumfounded spectators, only to retire in the same 
order as they had come, still without uttering a word, 
whilst we all stood gazing in astonishment and silence 
as they followed the narrow serpentine path which led 
them back to their village in the valley below. 



AN ELEPHANT HUNT 

Elephant-hunting alone and on foot, in spite of 
numerous obstacles in the shape of dense vegeta- 
tion and boggy ground, with the physical strain 
of tramping, climbing, and wading, is an exciting 
sport. 

Whilst living at Bangala, on the north bank of the 
Upper Congo River, one thousand miles in the in- 
terior of Central Africa, I heard many native ac- 
counts of the number of elephants to be found in the 
forests of the district of Mobunga, on the opposite 
shore of the river. 

Upon an appointed day, accompanied by twenty- 
five Bangala natives as paddlers, I embarked in a 
large native war-canoe bound for Mobunga. Before 
us, at the close of a long day's paddling — for the 
Upper Congo River at this point is some twenty 
miles in width, from one main bank to the other — 
lay the low forest bank of the south shore. The 
village was soon located by the tiny columns of blue 
smoke which wreathed the upper branches of the 
giant cotton- trees. 

19 



20 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

This country had never before been visited by a 
white man, and we were far from being confident of 
a friendly reception from the cannibals. Our mis- 
givings were quickly confirmed, for no sooner had 
the canoe approached within full view of the village 
than we were saluted with wild yells and howls. 
An ugly mob of armed natives rushed to the river side 
and manned several war-canoes, whilst others lined 
the river-bank with their spears poised at us. 

In view of this reception, our prospects of elephant- 
hunting seemed remote; and my Bangala com- 
panions, well versed in savage ways, counselled a 
hasty retreat. At the critical moment, however, 
when escape seemed hopeless, owing to a number of 
large canoes heading us off, the chief suddenly made 
his appearance upon the bank. Raising his voice 
high above the uproar, he shouted : 

"Benu bokuling undi?" (What do you want?) 
"Itumba, ekh?" (Do you come to fight?) 

Explanations followed, and the crowd gazed at us 
suspiciously. 

"We come as friends," said the headman of my 
Bangala companions, speaking in the Mobunga dia- 
lect. "We come to visit your country because they 
tell us that there are many elephants. If you will 
believe that we are friends coming in peace and 
allow us to land, our white man will show you the 
strange weapon he has brought, which will kill 



AN ELEPHANT HUNT 21 

elephants. We have ourselves seen the power of the 
weapon, and it is strong. Let the white man come 
among you and kill elephants, you will have the meat 
for food. Think, O people of Mobunga! think of 
your stomachs all large with good elephant meat." 

This tactful speech told greatly in our favour. 
The mere mention of the word "meat" had in fact 
an immediate effect, and the loud voices of distrust 
soon changed their tone into a low, rumbling note of 
eagerness. 

Upon landing, we were at once surrounded by a 
surging crowd of evil-smelling ruffians, to the ex- 
clusion of all fresh air. I paid a heavy penalty 
indeed for the unique position of being their first 
white visitor; I was buffeted to and fro, whilst 
large grimy hands mauled me over as if to prove, 
by sense of touch, the reality of my strange appear- 
ance. My patience was sorely exercised, and the 
climax of my misery was reached when, after bland 
and eloquent speeches on the part of the chief and 
his henchmen, I submitted to the ceremony of 
blood-brotherhood with Ozoio, the Mobunga chief. 

An incision was made in both our right arms, 
and our blood was collected and mixed in a broad 
leaf. This leaf was subsequently rolled after the 
manner of a cigar, cut into two portions and handed 
to us to eat. This trying ceremony, the traditional 
evidence of good faith, was accomplished by an ac- 



m A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

companiment of shouts and by a furious uproar of 
drum-beating. We were then publicly proclaimed to 
be brothers of one blood. 

It was now dark, and being anxious to avoid any 
further ordeal, I persuaded the chief to give me six 
of his best men to guide me into that portion of the 
forest where I should be most likely to find elephants. 
Much time was spent in haggling, and it was prob- 
ably about ten o'clock at night before we eventually 
arrived at an understanding. 

Setting out with my rifle and cartridge belt, and 
accompanied by six most ill-favoured savages each 
carrying a firebrand, we entered the dark forest. 
Tired out and with overstrung nerves, I looked for- 
ward to enjoying a spell of comparative peace and 
quietness. Stumbling along in single file for upward 
of an hour, we reached an odd little village where I 
observed that most of the doors of the small grass 
huts consisted of elephants' ears hung over the aper- 
ture by a lashing of supple vine. Around the village 
were large stakes, firmly fixed in the ground, in 
order, I was told, to protect the huts from being 
trampled down by elephants. Indeed, such pre- 
caution appeared to be fully justified, for the boggy 
ground around the village was deeply marked by 
elephant tracks. 

As my guides, according to African custom, con- 
sidered it necessary to sit down and relate the entire 



AN ELEPHANT HUNT 23 

story of my arrival to the inhabitants of this forest 
encampment, we were naturally delayed some time. 
It was only after long and angry expostulations on 
my part that we wandered off again through the 
dense forest, tripping constantly over fallen trees, 
being scratched and bruised by the thorny creepers 
and massive festooned vines. 

Arriving in swampy ground, we waded for some 
distance up to our knees in foul mud, when to my 
surprise a canoe was mysteriously produced. We 
scrambled into the little craft and commenced push- 
ing and hauling ourselves through the mass of under- 
growth. At frequent intervals we were forced to 
disembark and the canoe was lifted over fallen trees 
and monster roots, necessitating much delay and 
many violent arguments. It was, taking it alto- 
gether, a most exasperating experience, and I can 
truthfully affirm that canoeing through the African 
forest by night is very trying to one's patience. 
There were sudden sounds of startled birds and 
monkeys, whilst the splashing of water and the 
crackling of twigs often betrayed the presence of 
elephants. The air was damp and cold, and chills 
crept over my body, until my teeth chattered. Mos- 
quitoes swarmed around us in clouds. Hauling 
ourselves along by the aid of branches we frequently 
found ourselves smothered with vicious red ants. 
It was a dismal journey, and I was truly thankful 



24 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

when we reached a comparatively clear space in the 
forest, albeit it was covered by tall bamboo cane 
some twenty feet in height; but I could at least 
catch a glimpse of the star-spangled sky. The 
leading man of my guides informed me that the 
journey was at an end. We had at last reached the 
favourite elephant ground I had heard so much of. 

My companions then retired with the canoe, 
promising to return the following day, when the sun 
was high in the sky, to carry home the meat! Being 
entirely in their hands, I acquiesced as cheerfully as I 
could, and stepped ashore' into the deep slush. 

"Oko! eo oke o." ("Oh, you! We go — we go 
away.") 

I acknowledged their farewell, and listened sadly 
to the distant voices of my homeward-bound guides. 
Standing above my ankles in the cold water, thor- 
oughly chilled and weary, with myriads of mos- 
quitoes hovering about me, I never in all my life 
felt so little inclination to hunt anything. Sur- 
rounded as I was by the vast primeval forest, a 
long day's journey from my single white comrade 
at Bangala, and fully five hundred miles from the 
next nearest white man, in the dead of night, and in 
the land of capricious savages, the feeling of loneliness 
grew more and more oppressive as the night ad- 
vanced. With the sense of hearing over-strained, 
every slight sound in the forest caused an involun- 




b3 



AN ELEPHANT HUNT 25 

tary start; the great trees, showing black against the 
star-lit sky, assumed grotesque forms, and I found 
great difficulty in shaking off a feeling of intense 
nervous awe. 

After floundering about for some time, I at length 
felt an opening which appeared to be an elephant 
path. The cane was trodden into the sodden 
ground, about four feet in width, and the path led 
straight across the bamboo patch. On either side 
of the path the cane grew so thickly that I found 
it almost impossible to penetrate. Making up my 
mind to remain in this ploughed-up path until 
day-light, when I hoped to view the elephants, I 
backed among the sticks and thorns, and tried in 
vain to be patient. Gusts of wind whistled through 
the foliage and by degrees the sky became overcast. 
Rain commenced to fall, and soon the sky seemed 
rent asunder with terrific flashes of lightning to 
which there succeeded crashing peals of thunder in 
startlingly rapid succession. 

This tropical storm seemingly arrived as a climax 
to my misery. In the midst of the storm I dis- 
tinctly heard elephants forcing their way through 
the forest in order evidently to reach some open 
space where they might be safe from falling trees. 

In the intermittent flashes of lightning I occasion- 
ally got a glimpse of a great ghostly form approach- 
ing the cane-patch, and as the storm increased in 



26 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

fury the sound of elephants stampeding in all di- 
rections through the thick mass of bamboos im- 
pressed me in a most uncomfortable manner. Their 
floundering heavy footsteps occasionally seemed to 
approach within a few yards of me, and I distinctly 
heard the frightened squeals of baby elephants as 
they plunged and stumbled in the swamp. 

The storm ceased as suddenly as it came, and in 
the subsequent lull there was a constant dripping of 
water in the forest and the sound of falling branches. 
The elephants appeared to be standing motionless, 
and the air was once more filled with the eternal 
music of mosquitoes. 

With the first indication of dawn my spirits rose, 
and with the ragged sleeve of my wet shirt I care- 
fully wiped the mud from my rifle. Whilst it was 
still too dark to distinguish the surroundings, I could 
plainly hear elephants stirring in all directions. 
Crawling some little distance along the sloppy path, 
I gradually made out the silhouette of an elephant's 
head and back, cutting sharp against the gray morn- 
ing sky. It was impossible in that light to estimate 
distance. 

Every moment it grew lighter, and I was better 
able to obtain bearings. 

Creeping cautiously forward, I was startled two 
or three times by that low rumbling sound familiar 
to elephant-hunters. 



AN ELEPHANT HUNT 27 

The cane-patch appeared to be a perfect haven of 
refuge for elephants during the storm, for on every 
side there came audible evidence of their presence. 
When within about twenty paces of my elephant I 
was just able to discern his ears flapping spasmod- 
ically to beat off the mosquitoes and sand-flies that 
hovered around his head, and to see his trunk swing- 
ing listlessly among the trampled cane as if in search 
of edible shoots. 

Gradually I noticed a certain restiveness, as though 
the animal suspected danger. Raising and circling 
his trunk in the air he sniffed in various directions 
until his head was turned straight towards me. Re- 
alising that my presence was discovered, and that 
there was not an instant to lose, I took a steady 
aim at his left shoulder and fired. The recoil of 
my eight-bore rifle almost knocked me backwards, 
and as I struggled in the cane-entangled slush, en- 
veloped in smoke, I was conscious of a deafening 
uproar. The rifle report echoed strangely through 
the forest, and the startled elephants charged madly 
forward in every direction, crashing through the 
dense foliage like giant locomotives. 

By the time I regained my feet and had crawled 
aside to be clear from the smoke I found my ele- 
phant slowly rising from the ground. I was now 
well within fifteen paces of the beast and fully re- 
alised the necessity of firing a fatal shot. Trembling 



28 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

with excitement I fired point-blank at the forehead, 
and quickly stooping below the smoke, I caught sight 
of a jet of blood spurting from the wound. The 
ponderous animal fell slowly to the ground — dead. 
Reloading in haste I took two snap-shots at an ele- 
phant rushing past me, without other effect however 
than to stop his progress. He stood for a moment, 
gazing at me and twitching his tail. Owing to wet 
or dirt, I found difficulty in opening my rifle and in 
spite of frantic efforts I could not move the lever. 
I can well recall the feeling of blank despair when 
the wounded beast, with coiled trunk and ears erect, 
rushed forward with a shrill scream. Darting aside 
I fell into a swamp hole completely covered with 
a mass of vine and branches. There I lay breath- 
less for some moments, listening to the flounderings 
of the wounded elephant. At length the noise died 
away, and with broad daylight all was still again. 
In vain I tried to open my gun, but the breech was 
badly jammed, and I found myself unarmed. 

The time dragged slowly on, my anxiety increasing 
each hour, and I commenced to reflect upon the risks 
we had exposed ourselves to in visiting Mobunga 
without taking due precautions for safety. Hunger, 
excitement and lack of sleep, all combined to render 
my thoughts morbid. I climbed upon the back of 
the dead elephant and waited impatiently for my 
companions of the previous night. It was with 



AN ELEPHANT HUNT 29 

genuine joy that I greeted their arrival. In place 
of the six men however there now appeared to be 
hundreds, with several canoes, and their shouts of 
delight at finding a dead elephant were deafening. 

Within an incredibly short time the huge carcass 
was stripped of flesh. The tusks were hacked from 
the skull with a native adze, and later on I em- 
barked in a canoe laden almost to the gunwale with 
reeking meat. 

Arriving once more in the village, I was distressed 
to learn that my Bangala followers had taken fright 
in the night and had paddled away, leaving me 
stranded. My successful kill had fortunately the 
effect of putting every one into a more or less good 
humour, and by dint of lavish promises I obtained 
some Mobunga natives and a canoe for my return to 
Bangala. 



YOKA THE SORCERER 

Yoka was a Charm-Doctor, a crafty quack who ex- 
ercised great influence in the land. His name in- 
spired the superstitious inhabitants of the Lukungu 
valley with a sense of awe and dread. 

By following the main incidents in the life of this 
redoubtable sorcerer, a glimpse at least will be re- 
vealed of the system of fetichism and superstition 
prevailing among the pagan population of the Congo. 

It appears that early in life Yoka displayed a 
quickness of perception that placed him far in ad- 
vance of his fellows, and that he devoted his superior 
mental qualities to the study of human nature. 

Where all men's minds were held in the bondage 
of superstition, Yoka very soon realised the ad- 
vantages to be gained by following the career of a 
professional sorcerer. Yoka gradually attained the 
position of an expert in the creation of devices for 
deceiving others. He artfully contrived to surround 
himself with an air of mystery by reason of his affect- 
ing various whimsicalities of speech and manner. 

When once well launched in his new profession, 
Yoka's powers of invention were sorely taxed to meet 

30 



YOKA THE SORCERER 31 

the demands for special amulets and charms, and 
wooden images, containing the mystic property 
which would guard his clients against danger or 
misfortune. 

From an obscure corner of his hut Yoka produced 
a never-failing supply of little packages of mystery, 
adorned with feathers and smeared with ochre, and 
never was there a doubt cast upon their efficacy. 

It is recorded that Yoka grew rich, that his trade 
flourished amazingly, and that he became a veritable 
power in the land, dominating the chiefs; in fact 
a veritable autocrat. 

The life-history of Yoka, as related by contem- 
poraries, recorded that Yoka's wives were sleek and 
well-fed, that they were chosen from the youngest 
and most attractive girls of the district; that his hut 
was the roomiest and best constructed residence in 
the village. "No rain ever filtered through his roof," 
remarked the narrator, "for the material was so 
carefully selected and the thatch laid on with so 
much care." No man dared to be his open enemy. 

After the manner of the priests of ancient Egypt, 
where in fact there appears to have existed a similar 
condition of superstitious belief, Yoka found it ex- 
pedient to give to his general actions a mystic sense, 
the result of which was to inspire fear and dread in 
the hearts of all around him, rendering everybody 
submissive to his caprice. 



32 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Yoka maintained that he possessed the means of 
direct communication with Ndoki, the Evil Spirit, 
and those simple minds, perplexed as they were by 
the mysteries of life, doubted not. 

In that land where life is precarious, where daily 
existence is threatened at every turn with danger 
and disease, every effort is made to propitiate the 
malevolent influences of the Evil Spirit, considered 
to be all-powerful. 

Thus far the narrative of Yoka's life and his at- 
tainment to power, although unusual, was in no way 
extraordinary. But, as the narrative continued, it 
grew in dramatic interest. 

In the easy flowing speech so peculiar to Afri- 
cans, they described with delightful simplicity the 
preparations that were made when their chief Ntuku 
decided to pay an official visit to the Head man of a 
neighbouring district, some two days march dis- 
tant, in connection with some petty question of state. 
From their description it became easy to picture the 
unwonted bustle and activity in the village on that 
occasion — the strange garments that were worn, 
incongruous cast-off clothing exported from Europe, 
which had been carefully concealed in the further- 
most corners of their huts. 

It appeared that about noon on the first day's 
march, the sun being hot, they halted under the 
friendly shade of leafy trees on a hillside. Here 



* 




The sorcerer (Musee de Nantes) 
From a bronze statue by the Author 



YOKA THE SORCERER 33 

some quick eye detected in the distance the form of 
an elephant, browsing lazily in the high grass of the 
plain beneath them. 

The chief Ntuku, being a redoubtable hunter, 
stripped himself of his finery and started forth with 
his long-barrelled flintlock gun. Watched by his 
crowd of followers, the chief cautiously stalked his 
quarry. Approaching within fair distance of the 
elephant, Ntuku fired his antiquated flintlock gun. 
All was at once enveloped in a cloud of smoke. 

As the smoke cleared off, the elephant was seen 
with elevated head, and the struggling figure of the 
chief impaled upon one of his tusks: then casting 
aside the mangled body, the elephant shuffled off 
towards the distant forest. 

In spite of the fact that the elephant's tusk had 
penetrated his body, the chief still lived, and requested 
to be carried home to his village. 

A rough litter was soon constructed, and the party 
headed for home. Sorrowful they were, because 
Ntuku was a popular chief. 

Marching slowly until within half an hour of 
sunset, Ntuku motioned with his hand. By signs 
he asked for a pipe, and whilst he smoked his eyes 
were riveted upon the setting sun. Almost at the 
moment when the sun disappeared behind a distant 
range of hills, the pipe dropped from the chiefs 
mouth and he died. 



34 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Here the native narrative branched off and dealt 
with the turning-point in Yoka's career. According 
to the custom of the country the chief's body was 
swathed in hundreds of yards of cotton cloth, and 
during the subsequent days of mourning when his 
wives wailed their laments, Yoka commenced to put 
into execution a dark scheme whereby he might 
accuse his enemies of having allied themselves with 
the elephant to compass the death of the chief. 

But in this Yoka overstepped the bounds of his 
influence. In vain he made efforts by threats, and 
even attempts at conciliation. All was in vain. His 
power was broken. 

The climax of the narrative described the tragic 
end of Yoka the Sorcerer. 

It appeared that one night, whilst the elders of the 
village were sitting around the fire, Yoka crept 
towards them unobserved. Then, springing towards 
the fire, grasping a keg of gunpowder above his head, 
the desperate man settled for ever the questions of 
power and influence and evil-doing. 

A huge illuminating flash, a deafening report, and 
the entire company were blown to pieces. I passed 
by the scene of the explosion on the day following 
and saw the leafless trees and debris. 




A Bateke 

Drawn by the Author 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 

A sad mistake was made when Captain X of the 
Belgian army quartered three of his negro soldiers 
in the village of the savage Basoko, the "Monkey 
People" of Central Africa. 

Desiring to establish an outpost in that village, he 
laboured under the belief that the natives would not 
interfere with such a small force as three of his men, 
whereas by leaving a larger body of soldiers he would 
in all probability excite their hostility, for the Basoko 
were a wild people. 

In the captain's opinion he was acting for the best. 
He had observed a similar custom practised by the 
leading Arab buccaneers, further in the interior; but 
unfortunately he had failed to take note of a pre- 
caution which was of vital importance in their sys- 
tem. The Arab plunderers invariably subdued each 
turbulent tribe of savages before leaving their mere 
handful of half-armed representatives in their midst. 

The Basoko had never been subdued. 

The "Monkey People" had not yet heard the re- 
sounding report of firearms, and they still strutted 
arrogantly about their filthy village, wearing flutter- 

35 



36 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

ing feather head-dresses, and muttering caressing 
words to their glittering, keen-edged spears. 

Captain X's little company of West African 
Houssa irregulars were duly paraded. 

"Corporal Alakai!" 

"Yessir." 

"Sapristi! Corporal, where are your trousers?" 

"The natives, sir! Last night I sleep, they done 
tief 'em, sir." 

"Quel malheur! Ali Bussi! Tete Clever! Fall 
in!" 

The three negroes of incongruous height and ap- 
pearance, attired in tattered garments of gaudy col- 
ours, stepped from the ranks and saluted. 

"Attention! Corporal Alakai, I am going to leave 
you here with Bussi and Clever. In a few months 
I will return. Clean your guns every day. Here 
are cartridges. Do not fight. Here are glass beads 
to buy food. The chief, he promises me to be your 
friend. Sacre bleu! Ali Bussi! stand up! Do not 
catch flies while I give you orders. Corporal 
Alakai, here is your flag." 

The captain, who made this speech in broken 
English, then handed the corporal a faded flag — 
blue, with a golden star, the emblem of the newly 
formed Congo State. And it was thus that three 
negro soldiers from the Niger were left to uphold 
the dignity of the State alone among cannibals. 




Idols, Manyema 

In the collection of the Author 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 37 

When all was ready for departure, the moorings 
of the steam launch were cast off, and the little 
vessel drifted into mid-stream. The husky voices 
of the three Houssas, who were standing up to their 
waists in water, shouting guttural words of fare- 
well to their comrades, were altogether drowned by 
the yells of the savages, who danced bravely upon the 
bank. The little puff of steam which rose from the 
launch, followed instantly by a shrill whistle, caused 
a complete panic among the yelling warriors. 

A few moments later the little vessel, now travelling 
swiftly with the current, disappeared behind a forest- 
clad promontory on its journey of a thousand miles 
down the Congo. 

That same evening the three Houssas, with true 
African improvidence, celebrated the occasion by a 
prodigious feast of smoked fish, sugar-cane, and 
other expensive trifles, the purchase of which made 
an extravagant inroad into their scanty stock of 
glass beads. But after this first ebullition of joy, 
Corporal Alakai and his two companions settled 
down and lived quietly in their grass hut. After 
the first minute inspection of all their belongings 
the natives took but little notice of them. 

Although the strangeness of the native language at 
first barred the Houssas from entering into friendly 
conversation, yet they possessed ready wit enough to 
make their wants known. 



38 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

If apparently but little noticed by the men, the 
female portion of the community soon came to re- 
gard them as continuous objects of attraction. The 
Basoko women — ill-favoured slaves — were always 
lurking around their hut, referring to them in gesture, 
and alternating their gossip by frequent shouts of 
derisive laughter. 

The environment of the three negro soldiers was 
typical of the country. Scarcely a day or a night 
passed without a savage orgy, followed generally 
by a sanguinary combat. The forest at the back of 
the village continually echoed the discordant cries 
and wails of erring women being beaten by their 
tyrant masters. 

Sickening vapours arose each day from the dew- 
sodden huts when the tropical sun poured forth its 
fierce heat and blinding glare. All was squalor, 
and the atmosphere was deeply charged with hor- 
rible smells. 

About a month after their arrival in Basoko, Cor- 
poral Alakai was stricken down with fever. One 
morning, while lying in his hut, carrying on a desul- 
tory conversation with his companions, some natives 
suddenly poked their heads through the small aper- 
ture which served for a door, saying: 

"Yaka! Sen-nen-ne! Ya-uku. ("Come with us. 
Come on the great river.") 

"Olau! Why?" inquired Ali Bussi. 




An Aruimi type 

From a bronze by the Author 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 39 

"We go to catch fine fish. Ya-uku! Come with 
us, friends; come and catch fish," they answered, 
speaking always their own language. 

Said Ali Bussi, in a persuading tone to Alakai: 

"Let us go! We can then bring you some good 
fresh fish." 

" Yes," added Tete Clever, as he placed a gourd of 
water within Alakai's reach. "Two days have passed 
since you took food. Let us go and obtain for you 
good food, O Alakai!" 

Alakai, usually so alert and active, was now listless. 
His eyeballs were glazed and bloodshot from the 
effects of fever, and he answered languidly: 

"Tor! Yes, friends; go if it please you." 

A few minutes after their departure, Alakai, in 
changing his position, caught sight of a bundle of small 
leather-covered scrips of the Koran, charms frequently 
used by the Houssas as a preservative against mis- 
fortune. 

"x\llah! but they have forgotten their hamalat; 
may they meet with no ill-luck," said he. 

During the whole day Alakai lay in a state of in- 
ertia. His limbs ached, but his brain was still active, 
and during the long noonday hours, when the heat 
was intense, Alakai's thoughts drifted back to life in 
his own land far away. In his fevered imagination 
he pictured to himself the delights and pleasures he 
would enjoy when his period of service on the Congo 



40 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

was completed. He dozed during the afternoon 
until suddenly awakened by the beating of a pon- 
derous drum in the village. It was the first ap- 
pearance of the new moon, and the big signal drum 
boomed forth an invitation to the night dance. 

With a startled look at finding himself still alone, 
Alakai crawled to the door of his hut, and then 
walked with feeble steps toward the river bank, 
his heart filled with a strange foreboding of evil. 

The sun had just disappeared behind the distant 
trees, a cool breeze was springing up, and the great 
Congo River had assumed a dull, leaden colour. 
Alakai shaded his eyes and gazed across the placid 
sheet of water, but failed at first to see any sign of 
his companions' return. Peering through the fast- 
deepening twilight he at length however noticed a 
large war-canoe being propelled against the current 
by several natives. They staggered and splashed 
the water as they clumsily wielded their long- 
handled paddles. 

Alakai grew impatient at their slow approach. 
Later on, when his ear detected the echoing notes of 
a wild song, he muttered nervously to himself: 
"They are drunk. There will be yet another fight 
to-night. O Ali Bussi, come! Tete Clever, come 
back to me." 

As the huge canoe drew near to the bank, Alakai 
recognised some of the natives who had invited his 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 41 

companions to accompany them upon their fishing 
excursion; but to his dismay, neither of his com- 
panions was visible. 

With wild yells and drunken shouts the paddlers 
rushed their canoe towards the bank. Alakai was 
about to call, to ask after his comrades, when his 
eyes lit on a sight that chilled his blood. 

In the bottom of the canoe he saw a ghastly heap 
of human limbs. 

It instantly dawned upon him that his companions 
had been murdered by the drunken savages. The 
next moment his worst fears were realised — the sav- 
ages were wearing portions of his comrades' clothing. 

The canoe was now within a few feet of the bank, 
and crowds of excited natives from the village were 
assembling upon the shore, uttering hideous yells. 
They also had caught sight of the pile of flesh in the 
canoe. 

Alakai shivered with terror. Having murdered his 
two companions, he knew full well that they would 
next seek his own life. 

He crept stealthily in the deep shadows of the huts 
until he reached the forest. Then he fled for life, 
unheeding the lacerating thorns, stumbling and fall- 
ing in the darkness, until he found himself far away 
in the mighty forest. 

When too weak to proceed further, he collected 
his strength for a final effort. He clambered up a 



42 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

festooned vine until he reached a convenient resting- 
place in the higher branches of a tree. Here he sank 
back exhausted, his head fell upon his breast, his 
limbs shook and his teeth chattered. 

Alone in the boundless forest, shattered with fever, 
without food, and the nearest State station more 
than five hundred miles away! 

The utter hopelessness of his position crushed his 
spirit, and during the next few days Alakai some- 
times remained motionless for hours together, gaz- 
ing vacantly upon the ground. 

He was far out of reach of all friendly aid. He 
knew the natives were hunting him, and he felt pre- 
pared at any moment to hear their dreaded voices. 
He shivered at the thought. The forest and slow 
starvation appeared to be his only prospect. He 
roamed about the gloomy woods by day, and each 
night he clambered into the branches of some tree to 
escape falling a prey to prowling leopards. 

As each day passed Alakai found himself growing 
rapidly weaker. His only food consisted of raw roots, 
and the fat white worms he found in rotting wood. 

The air of the forest reeked with pungent odours 
of rank, decaying vegetation ; the ground was covered 
knee-deep with wet, sodden leaves, upon which 
whole armies of spiteful ants crawled in all directions. 
Overhead, there was no cheering glimpse of the sky, 
nothing but the dense canopy of foliage. 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 43 

All was gloom wherever the feeble man strayed. 
The grim silence of the forest was only occasionally 
broken by the call-note of some passing bird, the 
chattering of monkeys gambolling in the tree-tops, 
and at night, when the depressing gloom deepened 
into utter darkness, the forest echoed with the hoarse 
croaking of frogs. 

Nearly thirty days passed by, and Alakai, the once 
bright and active soldier, was reduced to a pitiable 
condition. During whole days he would sit upon 
the sodden ground, rocking himself to and fro, driv- 
elling as one bereft of reason. The strain was under- 
mining his mental power and as each day passed, his 
mind became more and more centred upon the rich 
plantations of the village from which he had fled. 
His body craved food, and the pangs of hunger led 
him tottering back each day nearer to the savages' 
plantations. 

He was now no longer deterred by fear of capture. 
At all risks he decided to once more munch sweet 
sugar-cane and maize. 

One morning Alakai awoke to find himself lying 
in a pool of water beside a decaying log. It had 
rained heavily during the night, and a flowing 
stream had formed a pool around him. 

He arose with difficulty, for his limbs were stiff 
and numbed with cold. His scanty clothing hung in 
tattered remnants upon his wasted body, and as he 



44 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

straightened himself he became dizzy, staggered, and 
fell fainting upon the ground. When he recovered 
consciousness the bees were humming, it was noon. 

In the distance he heard the booming of a drum. 
It was the signal drum of Basoko. With faltering 
steps he picked his way through the dense under- 
growth, now clambering over fallen trees, and then 
creeping along the sandy bed of a shallow stream 
upon his hands and knees. 

The low booming of the drum continued, and 
Alakai laboured bravely onwards, as though drawn 
towards the sound by some mystic spell. The boom- 
ing of the drum awakened in his heart a half sad 
feeling of relief. In his disordered fancy the signal 
drum was calling him, it was sounding forth a mes- 
sage that his sufferings were nearly over. 

Buoyed up by visions of an abundant feast in the 
native plantations, he struggled onwards until he 
reached the skirts of the forest. There before him 
lay the long dreamed-of plantation. But at first the 
glare of the sun blinded him : he had not seen the sun 
for thirty days. 

With aching eyes and shaking limbs he entered 
the field of ripening maize and commenced to eat 
ravenously, with tears of weakness and emotion 
coursing down his grimy cheeks. 

After a while he became so overpowered with a 
feeling of drowsiness that he lay back upon the 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 45 

ground and was soon in heavy slumber. He dreamt 
that he heard voices — harsh, cruel voices. 

Awakening suddenly, he found himself surrounded 
by several shouting native women. At first he was 
dazed, but the grim reality of his position soon dawned 
upon him, for the next moment he was hauled to his 
feet and roughly dragged towards the village by his 
captors — a dozen strong-armed naked women, who 
shrieked and laughed with savage exultation. 

He cast a despairing glance upon the cruel faces of 
his captors, and his heart sank within him. In the 
hands of these merciless savages he knew that a hor- 
rible fate was in store for him, and he doubted not 
that he was being led to death. 

Upon reaching the village, Alakai was thrown 
violently to the ground, and his wrists were bound 
together behind his back. In the meantime crowds 
of natives gathered round him, chattering and shout- 
ing incessantly. 

In the midst of the uproar a weird chant was heard. 
The noisy voices were hushed. Presently a party of 
singing women approached and heralded the great 
magician, the "Woto-ya-boti." 

The magician, whose body was grotesquely daubed 
with coloured pigments, bounded forward and exe- 
cuted a fantastic dance. The savage mob droned 
a monotonous chant, and kept time by clapping their 
hands. 



46 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Halting suddenly and striking a grotesque attitude, 
the magician said, speaking in a sepulchral tone: — 

"Listen all men! It is the day of the new moon. 
All night we must sing and dance to the good ' Moon 
Spirit/ Misfortune will fall upon us if we shed 
blood while the new moon is in the sky, or even be- 
fore the next sun rises. O men of Basoko!" 

The magician's speech was followed by murmurs 
of disapproval. 

Alakai was then bound, hands and feet, to the 
rough trunk of a palm-tree, and two or three young 
savages, with glistening spears, mounted guard over 
him. 

When night came, all the wooden drums in the 
village boomed forth a message of invitation to 
dance to the good spirit of the new moon. 

Alakai looked on in abject misery, at the prepa- 
rations for the dance. Numbers of crackling log 
fires were built up, from which blue smoke arose in 
unbroken columns in the still night air. With 
joyous shouts both men and women later on com- 
menced the night dance. They formed themselves 
into two rows, parties from each side then advanced 
and receded, with sinuous movements of their bodies, 
the whole gathering at the same time chanting a 
monotonous song. 

Hundreds of naked feet stamped and shuffled 
upon the ground, their heavy iron bracelets and 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 47 

anklets jingling and clashing in unison. The deep 
bass voices of the men followed the shrill falsetto of 
the women, as each in turn pranced forward, wriggled 
their bodies, and retired to their column. 

The fitful, lurid light of the log fires reflected upon 
the perspiring bodies of the dancers and their highly 
polished metal ornaments. The broad-leafed ba- 
nana-trees and the graceful palms stood out in bold 
relief against the clear night sky. The hundreds of 
chanting voices echoed clearly in the distant forest 
and across the river. 

The entire scene with its deep night shadows was 
both weird and picturesque ; but the suffering Alakai 
remained numbed and indifferent to the wild chants 
and uncanny antics of the savages. 

The hours passed slowly, and at midnight gusts 
of wind whistled through the branches overhead. 
A storm of cold rain swept over the village, but still 
the dance was continued with unflagging spirits. 
The young men, however, who acted as guards over 
Alakai slunk off to shelter beneath the eaves of a grass 
hut, where they huddled up together. Sounds of 
heavy breathing were soon heard from the little group 
— they too were sleeping! 

Alakai strained and pulled at his bonds until at 
length he succeeded in freeing his hands. To untie 
the knotted cords that secured his legs was but a 
matter of a few moments. At last ! The cords were 



48 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

loose. Alakai's heart beat wildly. Now was his 
chance to make a dash for liberty. He crept forward. 
But his effort was in vain. His limbs were numbed, 
and he fell helpless to the ground with a groan of 
agony. Instantly the sleeping guards sprang upon 
him. One young savage wantonly prodded him 
with his spear. 

"Hold, Ngengenwe! Shed no blood before sun- 
rise; it will bring misfortune upon us." 

But the cruel spear had pierced Alakai's breast, 
and a tiny stream of blood trickled to the ground. 

Alakai was again made fast to the palm-tree, his 
bonds being drawn so tight that the grass plaited 
cords cut into his flesh. 

The rain ceased, the fires burnt low, and the voices 
of the dancers became husky. The gloom increased; 
it was the hour before the dawn. 

Alakai's mind was filled with disjointed fancies. 

He started ! A sound ! He raised his head to listen. 
It was the fluttering of birds roosting in the tree-tops; 
they were commencing to plume themselves. 

The song of the dancers gradually died away; 
the village was hushed, only the hum of myriads of 
mosquitoes filled the air. A gaunt pariah dog oc- 
casionally prowled close past Alakai, sniffing the 
ground in search of food. 

When the first gray light of dawn appeared, the 
village was wrapped in slumber. The picturesque 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 49 

night-scene was slowly deprived of all its charm. 
The huts were sodden with rain, the muddy paths 
were littered with palm-fronds and rubbish and the 
log fires were burnt out, leaving only heaps of white 
ashes. 

As the light increased, the birds flew off in quest 
of food; the cane doors of the native huts creaked 
as they were thrust aside, and dark figures appeared. 
Before long the village was once more animated, 
and the natives cast furtive glances in the direction 
of their prisoner. 

Alakai looked on with a stony stare as a group of 
armed natives approached him. Their head-dresses 
were bedraggled and awry, and their sullen faces 
bore traces of the night's exertions. As they gathered 
in a crowd round Alakai, they muttered angry 
curses upon the cold. The grey sky grew brighter, 
and delicate sunbeams appeared. 

Hark! A gun-shot! The natives glance at one 
another in alarm. 

A wild shout arises from a distant part of the village. 

" Watamba-tamba ! The Arab slavers! Run! 
Run!" 

Gun-shots were now heard in rapid succession. 
The clear morning air was soon filled with hideous 
shrieks and groans, the clatter of spears, women's 
screams, and hurrying footsteps. 

Alakai was now unconscious. 



50 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

From all sides white-turbaned figures rushed into 
the village, capturing men, women, and children, and 
ruthlessly shooting at other natives more fleet of foot 
who were speeding to the forest. 

The dreaded Arab buccaneers had at last attacked 
Basoko. 

The "Monkey People" were receiving their first 
lesson in submission. 

The white-robed Arabs, guns in hand, soon ran- 
sacked the village, and in their search for ivory 
pestles, war horns, and other valuables they dis- 
covered Alakai, bound to the palm-tree. 

"Tutu! ame kufa" ("He's dead! leave him"), 
said an Arab. 

" Siyo bwana ! " (" No ! See ! He breathes ") , re- 
plied a half-caste, unsheathing his dagger and cutting 
the bonds. 

Alakai fell forward heavily. 



The Houssa tribal marks, three deep gashes on 
each cheek, instantly attracted the attention of the 
Arabs. They recognised him as being of the State 
service and they treated him kindly. Some months 
later they handed him over to a Belgian officer of 
the Congo Independent State, who subsequently 
passed him over to me at Bangala, saying that he 
was no good, that he had no sense. 



THE MONKEY PEOPLE 51 

By degrees, and at long intervals, I gathered to- 
gether the foregoing incidents of Alakai's adventures 
among the " Monkey People." Although he retained 
a certain intelligence, his mind was badly shaken, 
and he was unable to perform the most trivial duty. 
He was treated by all with sympathetic indulgence. 

Alakai would sit alone for hours gazing blankly: 
his voice was seldom heard. His spirit was broken. 
He lived in nervous dread of every one around him. 
Sometimes a group of little children would play 
about him. Once I remarked a little baby girl, a 
sweet chubby little black figure, toddling towards 
him, carrying a snarling pariah puppy by its leg. 
She attempted to climb upon Alakai's knees. The 
little puppy was dropped to the ground and yelped. 
Alakai, startled, jumped to his feet; then looking 
upon the little child he patted her head and his 
poor sad face lit up and beamed with pleasure. 

The little children were Alakai's only companions. 



NGANGA NKISSI 

In the village of Mayumbula there dwelt a famous 
native wizard named Lubaki, at once the most re- 
nowned and dreaded man in all the district. He 
was known as "Nganga Nkissi," the charm doctor, 
and he belonged to the association of crafty men who 
represent themselves as being in league with the spirit 
world, and who thrive by imposing upon the super- 
stitious natives. So great was Lubaki's influence that 
he absolutely ruled the minds and lives of all the 
inhabitants of Mayumbula. Chiefs, freemen and 
slaves were alike under the evil sway of this subtle- 
minded impostor. 

During many months' residence in the district I 
succeeded in gaining to a certain extent the confi- 
dence of the natives ; I tended them in sickness, and 
I studied their language. At first the people were 
shy and reserved, owing doubtless to their fear of 
exciting the jealousy of the great Lubaki, and the 
most prominent of my native friends was a man 
named Mavonda N'zau, "The Elephant Killer." 
He was celebrated for his physical bravery, and, 
indeed, he distinguished himself many times when 

52 



NGANGA NKISSI 53 

accompanying me upon my wanderings. Unhap- 
pily the friendship that sprang up between Mavonda 
N'zau and myself aroused Lubaki's jealousy. By 
every means in his power the wily charm-doctor en- 
deavoured to slander and to injure the one man 
whose popularity threatened to interfere with his own 
influence upon the people. So persistent and malig- 
nant were the efforts of Lubaki, that before long 
Mavonda N'zau found himself shunned and event- 
ually persecuted by his kinsmen. His life was 
threatened, and often he was forced to seek refuge 
in my camp. 

One day the poor man came rushing towards me 
in a condition of despair. His only son, a bright 
little lad ten years old, had been kidnapped, and 
Mavonda N'zau feared that he had been sold as a 
slave by Lubaki to a caravan of native ivory-traders 
who had passed the village of Mayumbula the pre- 
vious day on their way up country. Filled with pity 
for the poor fellow, I undertook to make inves- 
tigations, and at once hastened after the caravan, 
but I found no trace of Mavonda N'zau's son. Re- 
turning again to Mayumbula, I found to my horror 
that Lubaki had availed himself of my absence to 
perpetrate another scheme of jealous revenge. In 
the market-place he had publicly accused the wife of 
Mavonda N'zau, and the mother of the kidnapped 
boy, of sorcery. 



54 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

According to native custom, a person accused of 
sorcery is obliged to submit to a poison ordeal, a test 
to indicate their guilt or innocence. 

Upon the occasions of accusation of sorcery it is 
customary for the unfortunate prisoner to partake of 
a draught of "nkasa," a poisonous decoction pre- 
pared from the bark of a special tree. The draught 
is usually administered at sunrise. During the day 
numbers of the prisoner's kinsmen congregate upon 
the scene, where, half intoxicated with palm- juice, 
they dance around the wretched victim, to whom 
they offer every species of cruel insult. If by sunset 
the "nkasa" poison should act as an emetic, the fact 
is accepted as demonstrating innocence. The simple- 
minded heathen agree that obviously no evil spirit lay 
concealed within the body of the accused. On the 
other hand, should the "nkasa" drug prove a fatal 
poison, then the justice of the ordeal is fairly estab- 
lished. Every one is then satisfied that the accusa- 
tion of sorcery has been brought home to the right 
person and that the evil spirit has been satisfactorily 
exterminated. The most iniquitous phase of the or- 
deal is perhaps to be found in the fact that the Nganga 
Nkissi regulates the strength of the nkasa according 
to his intentions when administering it to his victim. 
The judicious expenditure of a few beads, or a kit of 
fowls, upon the part of the accused friends, is known 
to influence the potency of the poison draught. 




Nyanga Nkissi, the witch doctor 

Drawn by the Author 



NGANGA NKISSI 55 

A day was appointed for the wife of Mavonda 
N'zau to submit herself to the ceremony of "find- 
ing the evil spirit." Lubaki was to officiate as the 
administrator of the poison, and my anticipation of 
the result of the ordeal offered no prospect of 
hope; I felt assured that the poor woman's life was 
doomed. 

From the stray remarks I overheard from the 
natives around the village fires during the night, I 
thought I had gained a clue to the locality in which 
the ceremony was to take place. But unfortunately 
I was misled; I searched the district in all direc- 
tions, hastening from one wood to another, inquiring 
eagerly of every native I met, without result. The 
sun had already risen four hours before I appeared 
upon the actual scene. 

Drawing near to a small strip of forest, growing in 
the alluvial deposit of a ravine, several miles from 
Mayumbula, I was suddenly warned of danger by 
hearing native voices forbidding me to pass. I was, 
however, by this time so exasperated by Lubaki's 
inhuman persecutions that I paid no heed to the 
threatening shouts and forced my way through the 
scrub. Several guns were fired at me, the gunpowder 
smoke arose from the bushes on all sides, and small 
stones and iron slugs whistled over my head. Still 
I rushed forward through the thicket, until I found 
myself in an open space, in the middle of the wood, 



56 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

where the long grass and undergrowth had been 
trampled. 

There, lying groaning upon the ground, I found 
Mavonda N'zau's wife. She had already partaken 
of the fatal draught, and was even now apparently 
in her death agony. I raised her in my arms in 
order to administer an emetic with which I had pro- 
vided myself. 

The gaudy-coloured paints that had been smeared 
upon her body by her barbarous accusers, stained 
my clothes. The natives who were hiding in the 
underscrub called repeatedly to me to leave her. 

"White man go — leave that woman — she har- 
bours an evil spirit in her body!" 

Alas! I had arrived too late to save her life. 
Her face was distorted with agony. Her hands 
were clenched, her body shook convulsively, she 
gasped, and her head fell back. As she died, the 
yells and shouts of her heathen kinsmen filled the 
air. When at length I left the forest I was half- 
deafened by the jeers and harsh laughter of the 
natives, all of them too cowardly to come forth and 
face me. 

One night shortly after this tragedy, and whilst 
poor Mavonda N'zau lay half delirious with fever, I 
was awakened by the loud report of a gun, fired 
within a few feet of my tent. I sprang from my bed 
and rushed out into the darkness, just in time to rec- 





s^ 




NGANGA NKISSI 57 

ognise, by the flickering light of a wood fire, the face 
and form of Lubaki. He was running, with half- 
crouching body, from a cloud of smoke. 

Filled with a conviction that some fresh villainy had 
been enacted, I pursued him; but he eluded me by 
doubling among the bushes and the intricate paths. 
Numbers of excited natives rushed about in every 
direction, all eagerly inquiring the meaning of the 
gun-shot in the night. I returned to the place where 
I had heard the shot fired, and as I drew near my 
ear was smitten by sounds of wailing and woe. My 
presentiment of evil was fully endorsed by my sub- 
sequent discovery. Mavonda N'zau had been mur- 
dered ! 

Under cover of darkness Lubaki had evidently 
crept close to the hut in which Mavonda N'zau lay 
stricken with fever, and inserting the barrel of his 
flint-lock gun through the plaited grass wall, he had 
fired a deadly charge of iron slugs into the body of 
his victim. 

The following day I visited the native chief, who 
resided in an adjoining village, and formally accused 
Lubaki of murder. The Nganga Nkissi was prompt- 
ly captured, and bound to a stake to await his pun- 
ishment. Hitherto this ruffian had been held in awe, 
and no man had dared to utter a word of protest 
against his iniquitous practices, but the cold-blooded 
treachery of this murder had produced a revulsion 



58 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

of feeling among the people. Lubaki's evil spell was 
henceforth forever broken. 

One day — it happened to be the day of a great na- 
tive market which was to be held on an adjacent 
hill crest — the village was almost deserted. The only 
distinct sounds were the occasional wail of an infant 
and the snarling of pariah dogs as they prowled about 
in search of food. Snatches of a conversation which 
was being carried on by two women, suggested that 
something was about to happen. The day was 
bright and clear. In the distance I could dis- 
tinguish a large dark crowd of natives gathered on 
the hill top. A gentle breeze was blowing from 
that direction, conveying an indistinct murmur, and 
drawing nearer I could hear the rising and falling 
inflections of hundreds of excited voices. 

In the centre of the market-place, Lubaki the 
"Nganga Nkissi" had been buried in a hole, from 
which his head was alone visible. The village exe- 
cutioner, a muscular native, was bidden forward 
by the chief. He carried in his arms a large rock, 
weighing at least a hundredweight. At a given 
word, the great stone fell upon Lubaki's head. 




Witch rattle, Bangala 

In the collection of the Author 



THE FUNERAL 
OF AN AFRICAN CHIEF 

Official duties necessitated my visiting the district 
of Bolobo, a flourishing and densely populated series 
of native villages situated on the south bank of the 
great Congo River, about six hundred miles from 
the Atlantic coast. 

The natives of Bolobo, like most other primitive 
Africans, are keen traders, dealing mostly in natural 
produce and using cloth, ivory, iron, and slaves as 
mediums of currency. 

Although not cannibals, they are notoriously cruel, 
frequently torturing their slaves in most barbarous 
and inhuman fashions. In appearance, the people 
of Bolobo represent a somewhat higher form than 
usual, of the negro Bantu type. 

They are notoriously avaricious, and are known 
to be the richest and most successful traders of the 
Middle Congo. 

Some few days before my arrival the great chief 
of Bolobo had died, and I found the district in a 
state of wild excitement, for on the particular day 
of my visit the body of the chief was to be buried 

59 



60 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

in state, with all the peculiar and ghastly obsequies 
characteristic of heathen African savages. 

Taking with me four armed negro soldiers, I 
strolled along the narrow village streets, through 
avenues luxuriant with palms and banana-trees, in 
the direction of the palaver-ground — a cleared space 
in front of the dead chiefs former abode. 

In the distance I could hear the mournful wailing 
of many women, and it was in that direction I turned 
my steps. On my way I passed several groups of 
sullen-faced savages, standing half-concealed in the 
dense foliage. 

Armed with murderous-looking knives and spears, 
the men wore feather head-dresses, and their faces 
were blackened with palm-oil and charcoal: they 
scarcely acknowledged my salutation, and they all 
seemed excited and absorbed in conversation. 

Drawing near to the place from whence the wailing 
women's laments filled the air, I noticed several 
naked men and women, with their arms and legs 
manacled, and their necks secured in the branched 
forks of heavy poles. These unhappy people, I 
learnt, were the slaves and wives of the deceased 
chief. A few steps further brought me within view 
of a most extraordinary spectacle. 

In the middle of a clear space — the palaver- 
ground, surrounded by grass huts, backed by a tall 
palm forest — about three hundred naked women, 




° ft 



THE FUNERAL OF AN AFRICAN CHIEF 61 

their faces and bodies bedaubed with white and red 
chalk, were kneeling and swaying their bodies to and 
fro, as if keeping time to their sorrowful moaning. 

In the centre of this curious gathering the body of 
the dead chief was placed in a sitting posture upon 
a wooden dais. The head was surmounted by a huge 
feather head-dress. The face and body were painted 
white, with a broad black stripe about two inches 
wide extending down the face from forehead to chin. 
The body, which was visible to the waist, was dotted 
with large yellow spots, and the arms were painted 
red. Two old crockery soup-plates — obtained in 
course of barter from the coast traders — were placed 
on each breast, supported by a string around the 
body. Inside the arms were placed the decorated 
stocks of two inverted flintlock guns. A strip of 
yellow cloth was tied around the neck and elbows, 
and upon each wrist was placed a collection of 
highly polished iron bracelets. In front of the body, 
upon the ground, stood an array of quaint wooden 
images, fetishes and charms of every description 
common to the people of that district. 

Although it was late in the afternoon the air was 
hot and heavy and the crying women's energetic 
demonstrations of woe caused streaks of perspiration 
to trickle down their painted bodies. The uproar 
of the mourners became so distressing to me that I 
turned away and strolled in a maze of small side- 



62 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

paths. Here I continued to meet groups of armed 
and excited natives eagerly engaged in discussing 
some momentous topic, and I also discovered several 
more captives bound to the centre posts of the grass 
huts. 

Although upon ordinary occasions a white man's 
presence in their villages would have created no 
small sensation, I was surprised to find that little 
heed was paid to me, and I was allowed to wander 
unmolested among the huts. 

Almost immediately after sunset a series of huge 
bonfires were lit at one end of the principal village. 
Hastening forward I found a gathering of two or 
three hundred natives, with fluttering feather head- 
dresses and clanging metal ornaments, dancing in a 
state of absolute frenzy. The sound of their deep 
bass voices as they sang, the incessant drum-beat- 
ing, and the distant wailing of the mourners created 
an indescribable uproar. The air was filled with 
dust and was tainted with the smell of heated Af- 
rican bodies and a sickly odour from the log fires. 
The evening breeze occasionally wafted the columns 
of smoke across the wild revellers, momentarily hid- 
ing them from view. By the lurid glow of the 
huge log fires, despite the almost fiendish appearance 
of the savages, I was deeply impressed with the 
vivid effect of the scene, with its action, and with 
its striking contrasts. 



THE FUNERAL OF AN AFRICAN CHIEF 63 

As my eyes grew more accustomed to the sur- 
roundings I observed many natives dancing at the 
edge of a deep hole which had been recently dug 
in the ground. Whilst leaning forward to obtain a 
clearer view, and conjecturing upon the object of the 
wild proceedings, I was startled by a mighty shout 
uttered from hundreds of hoarse throats. Turn- 
ing, I saw several men forcing their way through 
the multitude in the direction of the dark abyss. 
A jingling sound of bells heralded a procession of 
dancing figures, whose forms stood forth in bold 
relief as they passed in front of the blazing fires. 
A space was cleared in front of the hole and in 
a. few moments there bounded forward the great 
charm-doctor, painted and bedecked with leopard 
skins and rattling charms, outward tokens of the 
absolute ruler of the destinies of heathen African 
savages. 

This hideous looking creature, with whitened eye- 
lids and body smeared with fowls' brains and blood, 
commenced the dance of death. With sinuous move- 
ments of the body he pranced around the clear 
space, kicking up a perfect cloud of dust, and 
chanting a quaint savage song. Round and round, 
each time faster, whirled the uncanny figure. At 
length he stopped, bathed in perspiration, dusty 
and bedraggled, and seated himself at the edge of 
the hole. 



64 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Another hideous shout rent the air. Ten women, 
the former wives of the deceased chief, with hands 
and feet bound, were dragged forward and placed 
upon the ground in front of the charm-doctor. 

Shortly afterwards a number of young men, for- 
mer slaves of the chief, were also brought forward 
to the brink of the hole. Then amidst a scene of 
wild confusion the corpse of the great chief, now 
swathed in yards of cotton and grass cloth, was 
borne forward. 

Above the heads of the swaying crowd I caught 
sight of dark bodies being hurled into the hole. 
I could just distinguish the agonised shrieks of 
women — the unfortunate wives who were being 
sacrificed. 

The body of the chief was next placed in the hole. 
The crowd surged and swayed and shouted even 
more vociferously than ever when a hundred hands 
commenced to heave the earth into the living tomb 
of the chiefs wives, who were thus buried alive. 
Hemmed in by the crowd, I found myself unable 
to retire from the horrible scene. The hole was soon 
filled in, and crowds of natives then danced upon the 
spot. 

The first of the slaves was now brought forward. 
His head was fixed in a framework, suspended to 
an overhanging branch. A bright gleam of the ex- 
ecutioner's knife, followed by a frantic yell from the 



THE FUNERAL OF AN AFRICAN CHIEF 65 

multitude, denoted that the first of the numerous 
band of the late chief's slaves had been decapitated. 
Shocked by the sight I made a final and successful 
effort to escape from the ghastly scene. A few 
minutes brought me to the river-side, where my 
canoe was moored. A few hasty words to my fol- 
lowers, and we drifted out upon the river. A white 
fog and darkness soon hid the Bolobo shore from 
our sight, but the entire night was haunted by the 
roar of voices and the sound of incessant drum- 
beating. 



TIPPO TIB 1 

The most prominent of all the so-called Arabs en- 
gaged in Central African slave-raiding was Tippo 
Tib. His real name was Hamad bin Mohammed; 
his father was a half-caste Arab of Zanzibar, and his 
mother was a full-blooded African slave from Mrima 
near Tanganyika. 

The nickname "Tippo Tib" was bestowed upon 
him by the natives, who with their natural system of 
native expression, ever simple and literal in its 
methods, found a spontaneous and appropriate name 
by associating the famous Arab leader with the 
unwonted sound of gun-firing, whence the derivation 
of "tip, tip," or "Tippo Tib." 

Tippo Tib's experiences of savage Africa were 
unique. It is difficult to imagine that any man could 
have passed through more exciting adventures than 
he; surely no man of our epoch has witnessed more 
bloodshed and suffering. 

He was a tall, powerfully built man, with short, 
grizzly beard, very black skin, discoloured eyeballs, 
thick lips, beautifully white teeth and afflicted with 

1 Tippo Tib died near Zanzibar in 1907. 
66 



TIPPO TIB 67 

a peculiar nervous twitching of the eyelids. He was 
benevolent in appearance and gentle in his manner. 
He impressed me as being courteous and dignified. 
He seemed to be full of restrained force. To me 
personally he was always kind and amiable, and it 
is recorded that on many occasions he rendered val- 
uable assistance to European travellers, more espe- 
cially perhaps to Livingstone, Cameron, Stanley and 
Weissmann. He was possessed of personal virtues 
which contrasted strangely with his professional de- 
pravity. 

The advent of the Arab slave-raiders in the coun- 
try to the west of Nyangwe under the command of 
the notorious Tippo Tib dates from the year 1877,, 
the year in which Stanley accomplished his mem- 
orable journey across Africa from Zanzibar to the 
mouth of the river Congo. It was due in fact to 
the accomplishment of this famous journey of 
Stanley's that the Arab slave-raiders combined to- 
gether and followed Stanley westward down the 
Lualaba River. Nyangwe had hitherto been their 
furthermost western point. 

By following Stanley down the Lualaba River as 
far as the rapids of Kizingiti, more popularly known 
as Stanley Falls, the Arabs entered uninterruptedly 
upon what was to them a veritable Eldorado. They 
were quick to avail themselves of the chance of 
plundering the enormous regions wherein primitive 



68 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

savages had accumulated great stores of elephant 
tusks. For over twenty years an enormous area of 
country became the hunting-ground of Arab free- 
booters. The prowling hordes of man-hunters were 
vanquished in the year 1897, their final downfall 
being accomplished by the late Baron Dhanis, a 
Belgian officer of great ability. The account of the 
overthrow of the Arabs has been most graphically 
described by Mr. Hinde, 1 who accompanied Baron 
Dhanis throughout his campaign. 

During the years 1887-88, when the infamous traffic 
of the Arab slave-raiders was at its height, circum- 
stances led me to pass many months in the central 
region of the Arabs' operations, where incidents of 
gross barbarity were of almost daily occurrence. 

The tusks of elephants have always been esteemed 
as currency, for purposes of purchase and exchange. 
To this fact may be attributed the attempts of the 
Arab raiders to penetrate the remote regions where 
stores of ivory had been accumulated through un- 
interrupted ages. The scene of their operations was 
in the vicinity of the native villages where the forest 
was generally more or less clear, the larger trees 
being cut down some twenty or thirty feet from the 
ground by means of a stage of poles, a process which 
saves the extra labour of cutting through the base 
of the hardwood trees the tall trunks of which, left 

» "The Fall of the Congo Arabs," by S. L. Hinde (Methuen). 




Tippo Tib 

Photograph taken by the Author 



TIPPO TIB 69 

standing, resemble ghostly ruined columns, partic- 
ularly by moonlight; whilst the enormous limbs 
that have been cut off are generally left lying around 
the village to serve as a means of protection against 
the danger of sudden attack. 

Occasionally an encircling stockade of logs sur- 
rounds a village; the narrow gateway, scarcely wide 
enough for an ordinary man to squeeze through, 
being provided with a heavy log suspended from 
above, after the fashion of a portcullis. 

The villages themselves were composed of groups 
of meagre and dilapidated grass huts. 

The erratic path followed by the Arabs was thick 
with mud and littered with decaying vegetation, 
and was underlaid by a slippery network of roots, 
while the lofty stately forest trees towering over- 
head created a perpetual semi-darkness. Below, 
young trees and thick bushes all strove for mastery. 

No sun's rays ever penetrated this grim solitude. 
Hornbills and eagles lived aloft, monkeys in the 
branches, and ants of various species held sway 
below. It seemed as if Nature had run wild in the 
magnificent profusion and wreckage of timber, the 
whole scheme of the forest giving an impression of 
excess — a superabundance of generosity. 

The general custom of the raiding Arabs was to 
surprise the village, and to capture as many as possi- 
ble of the fleeing natives. The captives were subse- 



70 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

quently liberated upon the payment of tusks of 
ivory as ransom. When it appeared that the na- 
tives' store of elephant tusks was totally exhausted, 
friendly overtures were made by the Arabs, and in a 
short space of time the utmost good-humour would 
apparently exist between the natives and their for- 
mer persecutors. The natives bore no malice. They 
regarded the Arabs in the light of men who had 
made a good bargain. The element of power is 
omnipotent in the savage mind. 

The native inhabitants of that part of the great 
Congo forest were typical savages, whose lives were 
largely identified with brutality and cannibalism. 
Under the baneful influence of the Arabs these sav- 
age attributes were encouraged, and in most of the 
Arab raiding expeditions there were bands of na- 
tives themselves who aided the raiders by piloting 
them towards the village homes of their neighbours. 
Their reward for so doing consisted of the bodies of 
their kinsmen who were slain in the attack. It was 
no unusual experience to witness the women of a 
native caravan, who were acting as allies of the Arab 
raiders, carrying portions of human flesh in baskets 
slung upon their backs by means of a band which 
passed across their foreheads, to serve as provisions 
for their journey. 

In this way the marauders were led, under the guid- 
ance of the natives themselves, and similar proceed- 



TIPPO TIB 71 

ings would commence in an adjacent district, the 
customary compact always being agreed upon, which 
allotted the bodies of the slain and wounded for 
consumption as recompense to the guides for their 
services. 

With such slight variations in their methods as 
may have been due to circumstances, the hordes 
of half-caste cut-throats conducted their nefarious 
crusades during upwards of twenty years. 

The natives were armed merely with knives and 
spears. In spite of long practice in the kind of 
petty warfare that is common to the wild tribes of 
Africa, they were absolutely wanting in the elements 
of simple organisation which would aid them to 
repel an attack made by a superior force. Hitherto, 
in the peculiar warfare they had practised against 
each other they had at least fought upon condi- 
tions of more or less equality; but the advent of the 
Arabs confounded them, and the native tribes soon 
disbanded. The despairing savages, driven from 
their former homes, mystified and cowed, took ref- 
uge in the wildest and most inaccessible parts of the 
forest, where they were reduced to preying upon each 
other after the manner of wild beasts. 

With reference to the slave-raiders it should be 
remembered that although they consisted of com- 
panies of half-castes of Arab and African blood, the 
majority of the men were natives from the great 



72 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Manyama country. These same Manyama, born 
under the Arab yoke — for it is many years since that 
country fell into the hands of the marauders from 
Zanzibar — had grown up under lawless conditions, 
and subsequently became professional men-hunters 
under leaders of Arab extraction, who organised 
and planned their methods of attack. 

5JJ Jfc ^ * * 

In company with Tippo Tib and several Arab 
chiefs I witnessed a tragedy. From a village on 
the opposite bank, above the Stanley Falls where the 
current was powerful, two natives manned a large 
canoe and paddled towards us. 

Soon they found themselves powerless to combat 
the swift current, and each moment they were swept 
nearer to the roaring Falls. I shall always remember 
the piteous attitude of the poor men on the brink of 
the Falls, just before the canoe plunged down ; their 
gestures of clutching the air, as the canoe was swept 
over and disappeared in the roaring torrent. 

The Arabs remained unmoved. One of them 
quietly remarked: 

"It was a pity to lose such a fine canoe." 

At Kizingiti, during one of our long evening con- 
versations, I inquired of Tippo Tib the reason for 
his inhabiting such miserable quarters. I said in 
Kiswahili : 



TIPPO TIB 73 

"See! The rain comes through your roof, rats 
run over your floor, the wind blows through your 
walls. Yet this is the house of Tippo Tib, the Arab 
chief." 

"Ah!" he replied, "it is better that I should live 
in a house like this, because it makes me remember 
that I am only an ordinary man, like others. If I 
lived in a fine house with comforts I should per- 
haps end by thinking too much of myself." 

Tippo Tib lived alone. 

On one occasion when I was staying as the guest 
of Tippo Tib there was a great commotion. The 
Arabs were greatly excited and reported that there 
had been a miracle. A tree which had for many 
weeks lain upon the ground had suddenly re-erected 
itself again during the night. 

The explanation of the matter I found to be very 
simple. It appeared that in cutting firewood, some 
women had docked the branches of the fallen tree. 
Being relieved of the weight of its branches, its 
powerful roots which still remained in the ground 
had drawn it up again to an upright position. 
*t* *j? i* *f 'i* 

How incongruous it all was, that the Arabs, who 
persecuted and butchered the natives without the 
slightest sentiment of mercy, were all earnestly de- 
vout in their religious observances! 



74 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

I was always impressed by the scrupulous per- 
sonal cleanliness of the Arab leaders; their regard 
for appearances contrasted so strangely with the 
surroundings. As a rule in camp they wore spot- 
less white robes, and I remember noticing the effect 
that these white garments produced upon the forest 
savages. Accustomed as they were to a perpetual 
environment of half-tone colour in everything around 
them, the Arabs' white robes represented to them a 
complete novelty. I frequently observed the natives 
shielding their eyes when in the presence of the Arabs, 
for the white robes appeared to be even more daz- 
zling to their eyes than the light of the sun itself. 

In answer to a missionary who was calling him 
to account for the awful massacres and the appall- 
ing number of lives for which he was responsible, 
Tippo Tib replied blandly: 

"Ah, yes ! You see, I was then a young man. Now, 
look! my hair is turning grey. I am an old man, 
and shall have more consideration." 

A well-known saying among Tippo Tib's Arabs 
was: "The gun is the King of Africa." 



THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN 
DEANE 

The name of Captain Deane will always be re- 
membered in Congo history as the defender of 
Stanley Falls against the attack of the Arabs in 1886. 

Captain Deane's adventures in the Congo region 
of Central Africa were varied and dramatic. The 
following cursory outline of the deeds which charac- 
terised the closing chapters of his career will afford 
some idea of his physical pluck and his singular 
powers of endurance. 

In the early part of the year 1886, Captain Deane, 
who had already seen considerable active service in 
the newly created Congo Independent State, was 
instructed to proceed to the far interior and to 
take command of the State station at the Falls. 
The object of his mission was to afford protection 
to the natives, by preventing the Arab buccaneers 
from continuing their bloodthirsty raids. 

In the previous year, Captain Deane and his fol- 
lowers had already met with a tragic disaster when 
on their way to the same destination. In a labyrinth 

75 



76 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

of channels of the Upper Congo River known as 
Monungeri, about fourteen hundred miles from the 
coast, the savages attacked his camp at midnight 
during a heavy storm. Captain Deane was very 
severely wounded, a spear penetrating his left thigh. 
Nearly half his negro soldiers were killed. About the 
same time that Captain Deane was about to make 
his second attempt to reach his post, after a tardy 
recovery from his wound, I was appointed to the 
command of the station of Bangala, a very popu- 
lous district midway between Stanley Falls and 
Stanley Pool, which, it may be well to mention, are 
separated by a distance of eleven hundred miles. 
As our journeys lay in the same direction, we trav- 
elled five hundred miles together, as far as Bangala. 

On the way we halted one day at Lukolela, and 
visited the grave of an Englishman, Kemble Keys, 
who had been killed by a buffalo in 1884. With a 
sentiment of sympathy for our unfortunate country- 
man, we cleared away the tangled undergrowth and 
rearranged the piles of stones that marked the lonely 
resting-place of a brave young fellow. In doing so 
we each preserved a few leaves from a tropical vine 
that grew upon the spot. 

In due time we separated. Ten months passed 
away, and in the meantime I had occasion to travel 
down country to the caravan track of the cataract 
region. One evening I pitched my tent beside a 




O ^ 



§ i 



THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN DEANE 77 

native market-place where the noisy Africans bab- 
bled and quarrelled over their gourds of frothy palm 
wine. Suddenly I heard distant shouts, and above 
the hubbub of the market I distinguished the notes 
of the Zanzibari caravan song. Soon I detected the 
advancing leaders, loaded with boxes, rifles, and 
other odds and ends of equipment which figure in 
every white man's march in Central Africa. 

A few minutes later I observed two stalwart na- 
tives bearing a hammock upon a pole. I advanced, 
and as the hammock was lowered I saw first a thin 
wasted hand and then a blanched haggard face 
with sunken eyes, which I was shocked to recognise 
as that of Captain Deane. As I helped the thin, 
feeble figure to alight, I could scarcely believe that 
it was the same man with whom I had parted but 
a few short months before. That evening when all 
was quiet, Captain Deane lay before my camp fire 
and in a feeble voice he related the story of his ad- 
ventures at the Falls, and he told me of the tragic 
disasters which had attended his mission. 

It appeared that very shortly after Captain Deane 
reached his destination, the Arabs took offence at 
the way in which he commenced to fortify the little 
station which was situated in their midst. By the 
Administration Captain Deane had been promised 
additional forces and an increased supply of am- 
munition, in order that he might be adequately 



78 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

equipped for all emergencies. But the promise was 
not fulfilled and Captain Deane was doomed. 
Owing to the great distance from the station of 
Stanley Pool, which was then the base of supplies 
for the Upper Congo, the river steamers were only 
despatched to the Falls at long intervals, ranging 
over six to nine months, and consequently Captain 
Deane had to give up all hope of relying upon ex- 
tra aid. His forces consisted of a second in com- 
mand, Lieutenant Dubois, a Belgian [army officer; 
about eighty Houssa soldiers, negroes from the west 
coast of Africa; and sixty savages, recruits from the 
cannibal tribes of Bangala. 

Within a month of Captain Deane's arrival it 
became evident to him, on account of the large 
forces of fighting men who were daily taking up their 
quarters in the vicinity, that the Arabs were enter- 
taining hostile intentions. 

A crisis soon arrived. A native woman, a slave 
of the Arabs, one day fled to Captain Deane's sta- 
tion for protection, affirming that she had been 
brutally ill-used. The poor woman was befriended 
and upon an assurance for her future good treat- 
ment being obtained from her owner, she was de- 
livered back to the Arabs. A few days later the 
same woman returned to the station, her body 
covered with wounds and bruises. Thereupon Cap- 
tain Deane decided to give the woman the option 



THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN DEANE 79 

of remaining in the station as a haven of refuge. 
The Arabs demanded her release. Captain Deane 
informed them that his duty was to protect all peo- 
ple who were in trouble and who sought his pro- 
tection. 

Immediately after this incident active hostility 
commenced. The odds against Captain Deane were 
literally hundreds to one. In addition to the small- 
ness of his force, he was dismayed to find that the 
caps of the bulk of his rifle cartridges were rendered 
useless by damp. 

For nearly sixty consecutive hours Captain Deane 
and Lieutenant Dubois fought alongside their men. 
The Arabs' numbers were continually increasing 
and they were approaching from various directions, 
under cover of earthworks which they threw up in 
the darkness. Their repeated attacks were as regu- 
larly repulsed, with heavy losses, and their fury at 
being thwarted by such an insignificant force passed 
all bounds. An example of the value of intelligent 
leadership was forcibly demonstrated. The Arabs' 
men were undisciplined and wild, whilst the little 
garrison in the State Station fought calmly and 
systematically, with highly effective results. On the 
fourth day the Houssa soldiers laid down their guns 
in despair. Their sergeant-major said: 

"Sir, our cartridges are bad; we have shot all the 
good ones. Can we not escape?" 



80 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Captain Deane angrily replied that he would shoot 
any man who attempted to desert him. 

"Very well, sir; please shoot us. We must die; 
there is no hope; and we would rather be shot by 
an Englishman than have our throats cut and be 
tortured by the Arabs." 

When the sun set that day the station was doomed. 

In the darkness all Captain Deane's followers 
with the exception of the sergeant-major, two other 
Houssas, and a faithful savage, fled panic-stricken 
to the river-side, where they embarked in all the avail- 
able canoes, paddled away with the swift current, 
and were soon out of hail. 

Captain Deane and Dubois finding themselves de- 
serted, the question arose as to whether they should 
also attempt to escape, or whether they should stay 
and give up their lives in the station. Lieutenant Du- 
bois proposed abiding by the toss of a coin. Twice 
the result was in favour of their making an attempt 
to escape; but each time Captain Deane shook his 
head and decided to stay. The third time the coin 
fell it was again in favour of departure. This trifling 
incident decided their fortunes. The defective am- 
munition was piled in an enormous heap, a fuse was 
lighted, and so arranged that half an hour would 
elapse before igniting the inflammable pile, thereby 
giving them a chance of escape before their depart- 
ure would be discovered by the ever-watchful Arabs. 



THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN DEANE 81 

In wading across the narrow rocky channel which 
separated the island upon which the station was sit- 
uated from the mainland, Lieutenant Dubois slipped 
and was carried away by the powerful current. 
Captain Deane plunged after him and succeeded in 
keeping him afloat until they were swept upon a 
jagged rock. Both were thoroughly exhausted, and 
with the words: "I die!" poor Lieutenant Dubois 
fell back in the water and was seen no more. The 
next minute, whilst Captain Deane was being 
dragged ashore by his four faithful Houssas, the 
Stanley Falls Station was blown to atoms by the ex- 
plosion of upwards of a ton of cartridges. 

During the next twenty-nine days Captain Deane 
and his four followers crawled through the forest, 
hiding by day from the Arab search-parties, and 
exposed by night to the prowling leopards and many 
other dangers. Their food consisted only of wood- 
worms and fungus and by degrees their bodies be- 
came so reduced and emaciated that they lacked the 
strength to travel. During all this time there was 
no ray of hope of subsequent escape to cheer them. 
They all felt that they were doomed to die, either by 
starvation, at the hands of the savages, or from 
the Arabs' cruel torture. 

In the meantime, the men who had deserted from 
Stanley Falls and proceeded down the Congo in 
canoes, had been waylaid by the natives; and, with 



82 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

the exception of one small party, who luckily took 
their canoe through unfrequented channels, all were 
killed and eaten by the cannibals. The surviving 
party reached Bangala and told their sad story. A 
steam launch was immediately prepared for the 
journey of five hundred miles up to Stanley Falls, 
and without loss of time a party proceeded to the 
relief of Captain Deane. 

Rather more than a fortnight later this launch 
steamed within view of the ruins of the Falls Station. 
A black heap of ashes was all that remained of the 
station buildings. A deadly volley from an Arab 
ambuscade warned the occupants of the launch to 
retire; and reluctantly the helm was put over and 
the little craft drifted down in midstream. There 
could be no doubt in the minds of the relief party 
that all was lost, and that their two white comrades 
had fallen. 

Two days later, a native was seen standing upon 
the rocks by the riverside, beckoning the occupants 
of the launch to approach. From him they learnt 
that earlier that same day in the forest, Captain 
Deane and his four faithfuls were surprised by the 
savages. Captain Deane, naked and exhausted, lay 
resting against the trunk of a tree. A savage ap- 
proached with poised spear. Deane raised his rusty 
revolver, the only article he had preserved, and 
pulled the trigger. The cartridge missed fire! 



THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN DEANE 83 

Before he could repeat the action the savage was 
standing over him. Captain Deane closed his eyes, 
expecting the stab from the broad, keen blade; but 
the savage recognised in him a former friend. The 
spear was thrown aside and Captain Deane was con- 
veyed to the native village. It was here that he 
was found by the relief party. 

This was the story I gathered from Captain Deane 
during the night we camped together. 

Twelve months from that time Captain Deane 
was back in Africa at Lukolela elephant hunting. 
Here he met his death. A wounded elephant charged 
and stabbed him with one of its tusks. 

By a strange coincidence the grave of Captain 
Deane at Lukolela is alongside that of Kemble 
Keys, from which Deane and I had plucked the 
weeds two years before. Both men were killed by 
wild animals; both were of the same country; and 
their graves side by side are in the African jungle, 
eight hundred miles from the sea. 



A FOREST DRAMA 

Alone, in a dark corner of his tent, toying with the 
beads of his rosary, sat Osmani bin Seyf. His 
swarthy Arab face was drawn and careworn, and 
his eyes were downcast in thoughtful mood. 

During many weeks, with a dogged determination 
that was surely worthy of a better cause, Osmani had 
led his caravan of Manyema marauders and captives 
through the dismal depths of the great African forest in 
search of human prey. Day by day they had trudged 
through thorny undergrowth, beneath the impenetra- 
ble canopy of primeval trees; and each night they had 
slept hungry and forlorn upon the sodden ground, in 
the vitiated atmosphere of decaying vegetation. 

The region they had traversed was uninhabited. 

That afternoon however a Manyema follower had 
been wounded by a wooden spear, adroitly concealed 
in the bushes by the side of a well-worn elephant track. 

Here at last was an evidence of man. 

The caravan had halted, formed an effective 
zereba, and Osmani had despatched scouts to survey 
the vicinity. 

"Hodi!" cried a voice from without. 

84 



A FOREST DRAMA 85 

Osmani started from his reverie and instinctively 
reached towards the loaded rifle by his side. 

"Kant)!" 

A grass cloth curtain was drawn aside, revealing 
the figure of an armed negro. 

"Ah! Khalifan!" 

"Salaam Bwana!" The negro crossed his hands 
upon his breast and bowed. 

"Khabari gani?" (" Speak, what news?") 

"Good news," replied the negro, mindful of pre- 
serving a good omen; "the scouts have returned." 

"Vema! And what have they found ?" 

In a few words the negro explained that the scouts 
had discovered traces of a large native village, situ- 
ate about two hours' march to the eastward of their 
encampment. 

Osmani's face instantly lightened. "It is well," 
said he. "The sun is now setting. Two hours be- 
fore the dawn we march upon that village. To- 
night, no fires, no noise. Sikia ?" 

"Our master's words are understood." 

"Haya! May Allah preserve us!" and Osmani 
waved his hand in token of dismissal. 

With a profound salaam the negro withdrew. 
Sentinels were posted, and soon the camp was 
wrapped in slumber. 

The night air grew cold. A storm swept over 
the forest. The rain filtered through the thick 



86 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

foliage overhead and trickled in streams upon the 
naked bodies of the miserable wanderers, caus- 
ing them to grumble, and to crouch together in 
groups. 

It was still dark and cheerless, when Osmani 
emerged from his tent. 

"Similla! Similla! Make way there for Bwana 
Osmani!" 

Silent and sullen the Manyema marauders arose; 
they stretched their stiffened limbs, and buckled their 
ammunition belts tightly around their waists. Each 
man rolled a strip of dirty white cotton-cloth around 
his head, turban-wise, to serve as a discriminating 
mark in the coming fray. 

The camp, containing numerous native slaves 
captured in former raids, together with a valuable 
stock of elephant tusks, was left in charge of fifty 
well-armed Manyema allies of Osmani. 

" Tendele ! Tendele, upesi ! " The order to march 
echoed through the camp, and in a few minutes 
Osmani and his marauders started forth in single 
file. No word was spoken. The only sounds that 
betokened their progress were a slight swishing of 
leaves and the muffled tread of naked feet upon the 
spongy ground. 

The attacking party plodded onwards through the 
dark forest until they came within sight of the village 
clearing. 



A FOREST DRAMA 87 

Dawn was just breaking when the first deadly 
volley was fired, followed an instant afterwards by 
shouts of "Allah-'llah-la!" as the brutal assailants 
rushed upon their prey. Women and children, 
shrieking and crying, fled in all directions, dazed by 
the sudden onslaught. Fowls flew cackling towards 
the woods. Men's deep voices shouted incoherently, 
but above the thrilling uproar of gun-shots, cries, 
and groans, the fatal " llah-la-ihu " of the Man- 
yema sounded loud and relentless as they crashed 
through the bushes into the midst of the multitude 
of panic-stricken savages, chasing the black figures 
that darted hither and thither, hurling them to the 
ground, and binding them with strips of plaited 
grass cord. 

The sulphurous smoke from the raiders' guns, 
combining with the early morning mist, produced a 
fog, which settled in an almost impenetrable cloud 
upon the scene; in the obscurity of which the Man- 
yema guns flashed forth tongues of flame. 

Osmani had now lost all control over his frenzied 
mob, and their iron slugs whizzed and whistled 
through the air in all directions. 

In endeavouring to penetrate the dark cloud of fog 
and smoke, the Arab leader suddenly found himself 
face to face with a burly savage, who bounded tow- 
ards him, brandishing a huge, sickle-shaped knife. 
Osmani raised his revolver and fired. The savage 



88 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

groaned, and fell heavily to the ground. But Os- 
mani's aim had not proved fatal, for the savage 
recovering from the shock endeavoured to rise. 

The Arab stepped forward. "A curse upon you! 
Die!" The revolver was levelled at the native's 
head, Osmani's finger tightened upon the trigger, 
and as he was about to fire he was startled by a 
piercing scream. 

"Hey! Hoyo!" cried a female voice at his elbow, 
and the next moment a native girl sprang forward 
and threw herself at his feet. Glancing downward 
Osmani caught his breath. The naked savage girl's 
beauty fascinated him. Her mute appeal to spare 
the wounded native's life was answered, for Os- 
mani's hand dropped to his side. He paid no heed 
to the groaning savage. His eyes were riveted upon 
the graceful form at his feet. 

A hurried footstep behind him caused him to start 
and turn. The negro Khalifan ran forward. 

"Hey, Bwana! Greatly have we feared for our 
master's safety; we have searched in every place 
for you." 

Pointing to the kneeling girl and the wounded 
savage — whose fate had been so strangely averted — 
Osmani waved his hand, saying: 

"Bind them, bind them both! See that the girl 
escapes not. Bring her to me in my camp at sun- 
set." 



A FOREST DRAMA 89 

Gradually the firing and tumult ceased. A cool 
refreshing breeze dispelled the heavy cloud of mist 
and smoke, revealing the victorious raiders swagger- 
ing through the devastated village leading and driv- 
ing scores of miserable captives, who slunk along in 
awed silence, with bowed heads and shivering limbs. 

Then, in complete contrast to the former scene, 
shone the early morning sun in all its radiance. Its 
bright beams glinted through the distant trees and 
fell upon the desolated scene, the narrow streets 
obstructed by the bodies of the slain, and upon the 
smouldering framework of many a home. Little 
sunbirds, with resplendent plumage, hovered around 
the trampled bushes, swarms of flies and bees filled 
the air with continuous buzzing, and large zephyr- 
winged butterflies soared and circled above the ruin. 

By noon the wretched captives were herded to- 
gether, and Osmani and his heartless minions com- 
menced the return march to their forest encamp- 
ment. The captives were driven in single file, and 
occasionally some of the elated raiders pranced 
down on either side of the line, executing a wild 
dance and singing snatches of war-songs, which 
echoed strangely through the gloomy woods. Guns 
were occasionally fired, out of pure wantonness, 
causing the terrified natives to start and tremble. 

In loud harsh voices the Manyema raiders blus- 
tered and bragged of their cruel prowess, and cursed 



90 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

their ill fortune in permitting so many of the natives 
to escape them during the attack. 

The arrival in the encampment was distinguished 
by triumphant shouts and howls. The marauders 
were beside themselves with delight, and the inter- 
val between their arrival and the setting of the sun 
was occupied by drinking and feasting. 

After securing their captives by means of grummets 
and forked sticks, the successful raiders gathered 
together in groups around blazing log fires. Huge 
gourds and earthenware jars of fermented palm- 
juice, which constituted a particularly well-favoured 
portion of the spoils, were produced, and by degrees 
Osmani's followers relapsed into a state of maudlin 
drunkenness. 

Just as darkness settled upon the forest, Khalifan 
the negro approached Osmani's tent, leading his 
female captive by the wrist. 

"Bwana! In obedience to your words I have 
brought this heathen girl." 

"Ha! This is the girl who stayed my hand 
when I would have shot. Question her, O Khali- 
fan!" 

The negro turned to her. The girl's eyes were 
downcast, but in answer to Khalifan's queries she 
mumbled a brief reply. 

"It is Allah's mercy to let this heathen say that 
she begged her father's life." 



A FOREST DRAMA 91 

"Oh, her father was it? A powerful man, Khali- 
fan, who nearly killed thy master." 

"Allah be praised for our master's preservation," 
muttered the negro fervently. 

"Inquire her name." 

After a few words with the girl, Khalifan replied: 

"Master! May it please you, her name is Tinola." 

"It is well. Tell her that she enters my harem." 

Khalifan explained his master's words. Tinola 
cast one hopeless glance around her, then in despair 
she threw herself upon the ground and cried piteously. 

"A curse upon her cries! Make her cease!" 
roared Osmani, angrily. 

Khalifan's endeavours to pacify the savage maiden 
were futile. Springing to her feet, Tinola struggled 
wildly with the giant negro. Her cries and screams 
at length attracted the attention of several of Os- 
mani's followers to his tent, but still the girl fought 
and struggled for freedom. 

Osmani's brow lowered, and turning to one of his 
satellites he said gruffly: "Go, bring her father!" 

In a few moments Tinola's father, bruised, bat- 
tered and blood-stained, was dragged forward from 
the crowd of captives. 

Straightening himself, and folding his arms, the 
savage chieftain cast a defiant look upon his per- 
secutors. But when his glance fell upon his daugh- 
ter Tinola, he swayed from side to side and ground 



92 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

his teeth. There was a dignity of mien about the 
wounded savage that attracted even the admiration 
of his heartless captors, for among them physical 
courage was esteemed the highest virtue. 

In response to Osmani's brief command two of 
the Manyema raiders shouldered and aimed their 
guns at the chieftain's breast. The savage remained 
unmoved ; he merely shrugged his shoulders and 
glanced scornfully at the guns. 

Tinola's eyes distended with terror. 

" Khalifan, tell this girl to look well upon her father! 
She chooses life or death for him. Another sound 
or struggle and that frowning savage yonder will 
be shot. Does she consent to behave with peace?" 

After the negro had interpreted Osmani's speech 
the unhappy girl stifled a sob, then turned and cast 
a flashing glance upon the Arab chief, and bowed 
her head in sullen submission. 

"Ha! The savage is tamed? Lead her to my 
tent, and take that ugly M'shenzi away." Then 
turning to the bystanders Osmani added, " Bassi. 
You can go." 

As the night hours passed the scenes in the Arab's 
camp grew wilder. The victorious raiders gave 
themselves up to a drinking bout. The more sober 
of the party danced and sang until their bodies were 
bathed in perspiration, and they fell to the ground 
exhausted. 



A FOREST DRAMA 93 

About midnight some of the revellers were startled 
by a stifled groan, which seemed to emanate from 
the direction of Osmani's tent, but, reassured by the 
subsequent silence, they said laughingly: 

"Ha! Our master's pagan shows her teeth again." 
Merrily the dance and song continued, the deep 
bass voices of the singers blending with the incessant 
booming of the drums, filling the still night air with 
reverberations. 

Muddled with potent palm-juice, careless and stu- 
pefied, the drunken raiders were too absorbed in their 
carousal to notice Tinola's lithe figure glide from be- 
neath the canvas of Osmani's tent and disappear 
in the shadows. 

The night grew far advanced and the singing and 
the dancing ceased. The log fires burned low, cast- 
ing a lurid glow upon the forms of the raiders, 
who, overcome with drink, now lay sleeping in all 
manner of grotesque attitudes. 

Deep black shadows enveloped the crowd of 
native captives, who were huddled together in the 
centre of the zereba. But they slept not. 

The darkness increased. It was the hour before 
dawn. The wind rustled through the tree-tops in 
the forest, the heavy breathing of the sleepers became 
more sonorous and regular, and the frogs in the 
adjacent swamps croaked dismally at intervals. Oc- 
casionally one of the wood fires burst into fitful 



94 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

flame, revealing the squatting form of a dozing 
sentinel. Then a shower of sparks would arise 
from another fire, where a half-burnt log had rolled 
aside. 

A watchful sentinel glancing towards the forest 
would have seen the glittering of keen eyes. But 
the palm-juice had proved too potent. The Arab's 
sentries slept. 

Dark figures led by the native girl Tinola climbed 
noiselessly over the stockade and swarmed like ants 
into a shady corner of the camp. If one of the sen- 
tries had but raised his head he would have seen the 
gleam of murderous knives and spears. 

There was a silent movement among the captives. 
One by one they arose, freed from their bonds. They 
crouched like leopards, ready to spring upon their 
prey. 

A shout, a rush of footsteps, and the Arab camp 
was doomed. 

Dazed and surprised in their drunken slumbers, 
the Manyema staggered and fell before the revenge- 
ful natives. Deft and alert the natives swarmed 
upon them, hacking and hewing with their keen- 
edged weapons; until, panic-stricken, the surviving 
Manyema rushed towards Osmani's tent. There they 
found Khalifan with a flaming fire-brand. Holding 
the canvas aside, the negro entered. The light of 
his torch fell upon the lifeless body of their chief. 




A sketch at Yambinga 

Drawn by the Author 



A FOREST DRAMA 95 

Osmani bin Seyf had been stabbed in the heart with 
his own dagger. 

This discovery completed the disorder of the 
Manyema marauders, not one of whom lived to see 
the approaching dawn. 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 

Karib Bwana. Enter my house; and, n'shallah, I 
will tell you iny story." 

The speaker was my host, Faradji Ibn Suliman, 
one of the most notorious slave-raiders in Central 
Africa. I was among the Arab slave-hunters in the 
Great African forest at that time, travelling towards 
Tippo Tib's camp, and being familiar with the Kjs- 
wahili language spoken by the Arabs, I took a deep 
interest in obtaining personal information from them 
concerning their adventures. 

From the first moment when I made the acquaint- 
ance of Suliman, I was impressed by his air of re- 
finement. He was tall and distinguished-looking, 
and his face bore no indication whatever of his call- 
ing. He was gracious in his manner, and his whole 
personality suggested the courteous dignity of a by- 
gone age. I noticed that he was generally alone, and 
that he spoke but little. There was a tinge of sadness 
about him, and he seemed out of his element hunting 
men in the African forest. He attracted me and I 
determined to try and break down his barrier of 

96 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 97 

reserve. I succeeded admirably, and we reached a 
degree of companionship. Thus it was that Su- 
liman bade me enter the sacred precincts of his 
tembe and promised to relate to me something of 
the story of his life. 

It was evening. Outside, the camp-followers had 
already stretched themselves before their log fires 
to sleep. We entered a large room lit by two oil 
lamps of ancient pattern. Upon a raised dais at 
one end of the room lay numerous mats and bol- 
sters of gaudy colours. Silver-sheathed daggers and 
highly ornamented pistols hung upon the walls, 
and a faint and pleasant odour pervaded the air. 
In a corner of the chamber lay a number of enor- 
mous tusks of ivory piled into a heap, the proceeds 
of recent raids upon a neighbouring tribe of forest 
dwellers. 

We seated ourselves, cross-legged, upon a large 
mat. A tall negro entered, bearing a slender-necked 
metal coffee-pot, from which he poured delicious 
coffee into two small cups. After a few moments 
when the negro had retired, Suliman commenced 
his narrative. 

"Our custom is to begin a story at the beginning! 

"I was born in Zanzibar. My father's name 
was Suliman; he was a pure-blooded Arab from 
Muscat in the Persian Gulf. My mother was a 
black slave woman whom he had captured near 



98 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Ujiji. When I was about seven years old, I remem- 
ber that my father went on a pilgrimage to Mecca 
and he was away for a long time. When he returned, 
he wore a blue robe, and was called 'Hadji/ out of 
respect for his religious devotion in visiting the burial- 
place of God's only prophet the great Mohammed. 
My father then became a priest and accompanied 
Hamad Ibn Mohamad, who is now known as 
'Tippo Tib,' the chief of the Arabs, upon a long 
journey into the interior of this great country you 
call Africa, in quest of ivory and slaves. 

" Tippo Tib and his followers were great warriors, 
and they fought with all the different savage tribes 
who inhabited the countries through which they 
passed. My father however was not a fighting man ; 
he was their head priest, by virtue of his pilgrimage 
to Mecca, and it was his duty to advise Tippo Tib 
as to which month was best in which to make his 
warlike attacks upon the natives — for you know 
some of us Mohammedans believe that certain 
months are more auspicious for fighting than others. 
During my father's absence in Africa I remained 
with my mother in Zanzibar, and was taught by an 
itinerant schoolmaster to read and write Arabic. 

"I was about sixteen years old when my father 
returned with Tippo Tib to Zanzibar. He came 
back rich, for the journey, occupying about six years, 
had been a most profitable one. My father invested 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 99 

his share of the profits which were derived from 
the slaves and ivory they had secured, in land. He 
purchased a large plantation, and lived a comfort- 
able life overlooking his slaves who worked in his 
gardens of cinnamon and cloves. One day, about 
a year after my father's return, by the side of a 
stream which marked the boundary of my father's 
plantation, I caught sight of a beautiful girl. Her 
dark soft eyes were like the eyes of a dove, and 
she walked with the grace of a young gazelle. I 
followed her at a distance and later on discovered 
that she was the daughter of an old Indian money- 
lender, who lived on his cocoa-nut plantation, which 
adjoined the property of my father. I watched and 
waited day after day, and was at length rewarded 
by meeting the girl again. We talked together, and 
as days passed our clandestine meetings continued, 
and we fell in love with each other. 

"From her father, the rich old Indian, I knew 
full well I had but little hope of gaining consent 
to our marriage; for notwithstanding my father's 
pure blood and his riches, I was the child of a 
negro slave-woman, and my caste was not there- 
fore of a high enough order to satisfy the Indian's 
pride. 

" While meditating upon the best means of securing 
my bride, I found to my horror that a rich young 
Arab, the son of one of the Sultan's magistrates, had 



100 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

sought her hand, and the mercenary old Indian had 
agreed already to the marriage. 

"Thus my chances assumed a doubtful aspect, 
and I fully realised that if I wished to make the 
half-caste Indian girl my wife, I must act speedily 
and energetically. I arranged a meeting-place, and 
in the meantime, hired a small dhow to convey us to 
an Arab town on the mainland coast, far away from 
Zanzibar, where I intended to live with my beautiful 
bride, in strict seclusion. Armed with a pistol and 
dagger, and accompanied by a slave, I proceeded 
one evening to our usual trysting-place, to meet my 
intended bride, and to lead her to the sea-shore, 
where my dhow was in readiness to convey us to 
our destination. 

"It was late in the evening, dark, and all was per- 
fectly silent save for the faint sounds in the distance 
of slaves singing after their day's work. Presently 
the leaves rustled, and the girl of my heart stood 
before me, frightened and trembling. 

" 'Let us hasten, mine! I fear I am followed. 
My father suspects. Let us go away at once.' 

"AJthough startled by her words and her evident 
state of alarm I could not resist the temptation of 
clasping her for one moment in my arms. As I held 
her trembling form, breathing soft words of love into 
her ear, I was startled by the blinding flash of a 
pistol-shot. Then after a moment's bewilderment 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 101 

I found that I held only the corpse of the girl I 
loved! Her Arab lover had followed her to our 
meeting-place, and blinded with jealous rage, he 
had shot my loved one in my arms. Almost beside 
myself, I seized my dagger, sprang upon the young 
Arab, and stabbed him to the heart. The sound of 
his pistol-shot raised an alarm. I heard sounds of 
approaching men. Picking up the lifeless body of 
the girl I ran quickly towards the dhow and em- 
barked. 

"We sailed away from Zanzibar in the fresh 
evening breeze, and my grief was so great that I felt 
like a man without sense. At sunrise I directed the 
helmsman to steer for the shore. I landed in the 
breakers, with the cold lifeless figure of my loved 
one; and I buried her in a grave dug with my own 
hands. Tenderly I filled in the grave, all the time 
with a sobbing voice singing our burial song. 
I would have remained beside the grave, had not the 
crew of the dhow forced me on board again. The 
intensity of my love and sorrow had been so keen, 
that I was seized by an attack of fever which nearly 
killed me, but my faithful slave nursed me until I 
was strong again. 

"Having killed the son of so influential a man as 
the magistrate of the Sultan of Zanzibar, it was im- 
possible for me to return without running the risk 
of being beheaded, and so I waited until Tippo Tib 



102 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

started upon another long journey into the interior, 
and after some trouble and delay I succeeded in 
joining him on the caravan path about one month's 
journey from Zanzibar. On account of my father's 
prestige and reputation, the great Arab leader made 
me one of his henchmen, and I was placed in com- 
mand of a large detachment of his wild Manyema 
warriors. 

"Very soon after I had joined Tippo Tib we were 
engaged in a severe fight with a powerful warlike 
tribe, called the Masai, and for many days a deadly 
conflict raged. But notwithstanding the excitement 
of this new life, with its daily dangers and scenes of 
bloodshed, I still suffered keenly from sorrow, and 
the form of the Indian girl was before my eyes day 
and night, in times of peace, and in the wildest 
scenes of warfare. 

"At last after many moons' journey, we reached 
Tippo Tib's headquarters at Kizingiti, and as I still 
suffered from depression of spirits, I asked to be 
sent to a far-off country where alone I might in time 
recover from my grief. He agreed at once and a 
few days later I was provided with four hundred 
armed men, and instructed to proceed through the 
Great Forest in a straight line towards the setting 
sun, and to obtain as many slaves and tusks of ivory 
as I could in twenty-five months. I started, and 
day by day we had to fight our way amidst swarms 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 103 

of ' Washenzi,' who filled the forests with their shouts 
and war-cries. 

"One day, we were suddenly surprised by a warn- 
ing shout from one of the party of men leading 
the way. Upon arriving on the scene I found sev- 
eral men with bleeding feet. Alongside of the nar- 
row elephant paths which intersected the forest in 
all directions, we discovered that pointed sticks of 
hard wood had been so placed as to wound the feet 
of strangers. 

" 'It is the work of the Watwa, the dwarfs,' said 
several of my men. 'We are in their country now. 
It will be well to get our guns ready.' 

"Almost as soon as the words were uttered, there 
was a sound like falling rain, and a flight of small 
sharp-pointed wooden arrows fell among us. The 
next instant a volley was fired in all directions. 
When the sounds of the guns died away the air was 
filled with cries and groans. Rushing forward 
through the thick undergrowth, after taking the 
precaution to reload our rifles, we found several 
queer-looking little men apparently dead, and others 
lying wounded on the ground. 

"At first, wounded as they were, the fiendish-look- 
ing imps endeavoured to shoot more poisoned arrows 
from their short bows, but finding that they were 
only laughed at, they dropped their weapons in fear 
and wonderment. 



104 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

"Four of them had been shot dead, but the others, 
with a few exceptions, were slightly wounded; in 
most cases excessive fright at the sounds of the gun- 
shots appeared to have been the cause of their re- 
maining upon the ground, rather than the severity 
of their wounds. When the wounded dwarfs realised 
that we were disposed to be friendly, they grinned 
and motioned with their hands to a particular di- 
rection, evidently intending to indicate that it was 
there their villages were situated. 

"Picking them up, my Manyema soldiers, who 
appeared giants by contrast, carried the wounded 
creatures along in their arms, followed by the 
remainder of the caravan, and marched in the 
direction indicated by the wounded dwarfs. 

" We had not travelled far before we caught sight 
of smoke arising among the trees, and a few minutes 
later we found ourselves in the midst of a weird- 
looking deserted encampment. 

"The wounded dwarfs were placed together be- 
neath a large tree, and grinning again as they point- 
ed to the deserted huts, they uttered a succession of 
peculiar calls, resembling the notes of birds. Their 
calls were answered in the same manner from the 
forest, and by degrees the village was literally filled 
by crowds of most uncouth little people. 

"The village of the dwarfs was composed of ir- 
regular lines of grass huts built in the shape of bee- 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 105 

hives, with small square apertures near the roof, 
which served as doors. The forest had been cleared 
all round the village, the larger trees having been 
cut at the height of twenty or thirty feet from the 
ground. 

"The tall white, dead trunks, around which enor- 
mous limbs and logs were lying in wild confusion, 
rendered the approach to the village from the forest 
extremely difficult; and this stratagem was thereby 
utilised by the cunning dwarfs as an effective pro- 
tection against the danger of sudden attack. The 
huts themselves were most primitive and crude in 
structure, there were no signs of pottery or other 
domestic utensils, and the whole aspect of the village 
suggested a temporary camping-place. 

"The only covering worn by the dwarfs was a 
bunch of leaves suspended from a string tied round 
their waists. Several holes were pierced in the outer 
auricle of their ears, in which were fastened a num- 
ber of small iron rings that jingled as they moved 
their heads. 

"After considerable inquiry I at last found one 
of my native slaves understood a few words of the 
language spoken by the pigmies ; but his knowledge 
of their tongue was so slight that it seemed impos- 
sible to obtain satisfactory answers to any of my 
questions. At length however an abnormally stout 
dwarf, who appeared to be a chieftain, stepped for- 



106 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

ward, and to the surprise of the slave spoke to 
him in his own language. But even under these 
more favourable circumstances it was yet a diffi- 
cult task to carry on any intelligible conversation, 
for the words of the dwarf had to be interpreted 
twice. We learnt however from the pigmy chief 
that the principal village of the tribe was situated a 
few miles further on, and that in their chief town 
were large stores of ivory. In the words of the 
chief 'there were more tusks than any man could 
count in four days.' 

"Once more the caravan dived into the gloomy 
forest, and as we marched along, led by the un- 
canny-looking little chief, we were accompanied by 
an ever-increasing crowd of noisy chattering little 
fellows, who skipped and jumped about among the 
trees like monkeys. 

"By the time we reached the high wooden pali- 
sade which was built entirely around this mysterious 
town, darkness was coming on and I was anxious to 
camp for the night outside the formidable-looking 
stockade; but against my will I at last gave way to 
the wishes of my people, who looked forward to a 
good supper and a merry night with the little sav- 
ages, and entered the enclosure. 

" We entered the village by a very narrow gateway, 
over which was suspended a perpendicular log. 
Owing to the small size of the entrance, my follow- 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 107 

ers were obliged to squeeze themselves through in 
single file. When we reached the enclosure we 
gazed in wonder upon the scene. Before us, as far 
as we could see in the gloomy light of the fast ap- 
proaching evening, was gathered a crowd consisting 
of many hundreds of dwarfs, all yelling and shouting 
with excitement. Dotted all over the extensive en- 
closure were a number of little round huts. Log 
fires were burning in front of most of the huts, 
emitting a faint and sickly odour. 

"The scene was indescribably weird and confus- 
ing and before we had quite recovered from our be- 
wilderment at being in the midst of so many quaint 
little people, we were conducted to a corner of the 
village, where we were invited to camp for the night. 
Dazed though I was, I yet noticed piles of large 
elephant tusks outside several of the huts. 

"By the time my people had deposited their load 
of utensils, ammunition and elephant tusks in a 
heap, it was quite dark, the only light being from the 
flickering wood fires. Crowding densely round us, 
as we prepared to make ourselves comfortable for 
the night, stood the curious peering dwarfs, shout- 
ing, quarrelling, and elbowing one another in order 
to obtain a view of our proceedings. 

"When all was arranged in order the little savage 
chief who had conducted us to this village suddenly 
appeared, followed by about fifty of his followers, 



108 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

all bearing large gourds of fermented palm-juice. 
This inebriating drink was presented, together with 
a quantity of dried antelope meat, by the pigmy 
chief with a quaint dignity, and in a short time a 
condition of good-humour existed between us. 

"Towards midnight the dwarfs gradually retired 
to their own huts, and in about half an hour the 
entire village was quiet and apparently peaceful. 
Overcome by the fumes of the palm wine, which 
was an unaccustomed luxury, my followers, both 
native slaves and Manyema soldiers, fell into a 
deep slumber. The fires burnt low, and even I, 
generally so watchful, did not detect any sound of 
footsteps. Once, however, we were partially awak- 
ened by a creaking sound which appeared to come 
from the direction of the narrow gateway, but after 
listening for a few moments and hearing nothing 
alarming, we settled down again to sleep. 

"Ma-ma!' suddenly shouted one of my Manye- 
mas. This cry, followed by a hideous piercing 
shriek, suddenly aroused us. We sprang to our feet 
and seized our guns. 

"The night was very dark, all the village fires 
having been extinguished. Dazed and bewildered, 
we stood for a moment seemingly ignorant of where 
we were. 

"With fiendish yells, that for an instant chilled 
our blood, we were charged by hundreds of blood- 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 109 

thirsty pigmy savages, who rushed frantically upon 
us with keen-edged knives and spears. My fol- 
lowers fired wildly at first, but realising their des- 
perate position — for we were virtually prisoners in 
the pigmy camp — they became steadier, and every 
man struggled manfully against the ferocious attacks 
of our devilish enemies who fought until they 
dropped, riddled with our iron slugs and bullets. 

"For upwards of three hours the fight continued 
with unabated fury. The dense darkness was lit 
up by the flashing of our guns, as they poured forth 
bullet after bullet into the frantic crowd. The cries 
of each fresh attacking party mingled with, and 
sometimes drowned, the hideous groans and shrieks 
of the wounded. 

"Gradually there dawned the cold gray light of 
approaching day, and as the darkness disappeared, 
the dwarfs retired out of the village enclosure into 
the forest, leaving behind them a heap of wounded 
and slain lying in a semicircle around the corner of 
the palisade where my followers had fought with 
the desperation of despair. Just as it grew light 
enough to distinguish our ghastly surroundings, 
there arose from the forest one shrill cry uttered 
simultaneously by hundreds of hoarse throats, and 
the next oninute the undaunted dwarfs came swarm- 
ing over the tall palisade on every side, like ants 
crawling in myriads over a log. 



110 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

"Volley after volley was fired, and the howling 
pigmies fell in all directions. Spears and arrows 
fell in showers among my poor slaves and Manye- 
mas. Still on the dwarfs came in their hundreds, 
until with one loud cry of despair my Manyema 
soldiers and the panic-stricken slaves turned, and 
with a mighty rush beat down the palisade and fled 
in wild confusion to the shelter of the forest. In 
an instant the dwarfs were upon us, and many of 
my slaves were smitten by keen-bladed spears and 
poisoned arrows. 

"Very soon after we had quitted the stockaded 
village the dwarfs relinquished their attacks in order 
to secure our loads of ammunition and ivory which 
we had been forced to abandon. Taking advantage 
of this momentary respite, I succeeded in gathering 
my men together on the top of a small wooded hill. 
Here we made our last stand. 

"It was not long before the dwarfs continued 
their attacks, but from our elevation my Manyemas 
were able to drive them back with better success 
than when in the village, where they had been 
hemmed in by the palisade. Instead of the dwarfs 
showing signs of giving in after the death of so 
many of their number, they only became more war- 
like and their numbers were augmented from time 
to time by a fresh supply of little warriors from the 
forest. 



SULIMAN THE SLAVER 111 

"During the whole day my Manyema soldiers 
fought bravely, but when the sun set they com- 
menced to grow uneasy, for their ammunition was 
nearly finished. It was just dark when the pig- 
mies made their strongest and final attack upon 
the hill. 

"My Manyemas wavered, turned, and fled. They 
rushed helter-skelter into the forest, followed by 
their fiendish little enemies. 

"After a moment's hesitation, I and three of my 
chiefs, who had remained beside me throughout, 
took advantage of the moment when the dwarfs 
were rushing after my retreating Manyemas, and 
fled into the forest in an opposite direction. 

"I cannot now tell you of the sufferings my com- 
panions and I endured after our escape. We were 
lost in the forest. We had no food. We crawled 
each day through the woods towards the east. We 
slept in the branches of the trees to escape from the 
leopards. We lived on roots. I reached the great 
river at last and found an Arab camp. Of all my 
expedition, which numbered about five hundred 
men, three of us were the only survivors. But this 
all happened many years ago, when I was young. 
Since then I've been successful. I now own as many 
slaves as the great Tippo Tib himself. Yet in my 
present prosperity, even after so many years of ad- 
venturous life, I can never forget my grief. In the 



112 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

stillness of the night, here in the Great Forest, I 
dream of my youth. 

"Yes, it is late. Good night!" 

I arose and left my Arab host telling the beads 
of his rosary. 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 

There was an unusual commotion in the populous 
village of Yabuli, situated on the banks of the Aru- 
wimi River, which flows into the Congo about fifteen 
hundred miles from the Atlantic coast. As a rule 
the villages in these districts were always in a more 
or less disturbed condition owing to the wild, un- 
restrained savagery of the inhabitants ; but upon this 
particular occasion the angry voices of the men and 
the plaintive wailing of the women betokened a do- 
mestic affliction which appealed to young and old 
alike. Their plantations had been destroyed during 
the night by a herd of elephants. Such a heavy rain 
had fallen, that even the old women, whose vigilance 
is proverbial, had neglected their watchful duties, 
and all with one accord had thought of nothing else 
but gaining shelter in their grass-roofed huts from 
the inclement weather. 

As is so frequently the case in these tropical lati- 
tudes the night's rain was followed by a radiant sun- 
rise and there was not a semblance of a cloud in 
the clear blue sky. 

113 



114 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Nature seemed all smiling and bright, and the 
foliage was refreshed after the rain, numbers of 
brilliantly plumed little sunbirds flew from the dark 
dripping forests to the trees in the open village 
streets, where they flitted from bough to bough and 
plumed themselves, and beautiful butterflies soared 
silently and gracefully over the village in the early 
morning sunshine. 

The village scene presented a striking contrast to 
the beauties of nature around it, for the huts were 
sodden and bowed down by the weight of the wet 
grass roofs. There were large puddles of dirty water 
in the paths, littered here and there with palm-fronds, 
sticks, and grass-stalks, which had been blown, dur- 
ing the storm, from the dilapidated huts. 

In the midst of an angry throng of naked savages, 
who were all talking at once in excited tones, sat one 
of the village headmen. He was a powerfully built 
man, and his countenance bore the impress of every 
form of brutal indulgence, and indicated plainly an 
unrestrained and evil disposition. His arms and 
legs were ornamented with highly polished iron and 
copper rings; around his neck he wore a string of 
human teeth. His name was Ioko, and his position 
as headman had been gained by his individual 
prowess and by his domineering character. 

He sat upon a small carved stool, listening for 
some time to the uproar, until losing patience he 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 115 

arose and with a wave of his arm commanded com- 
parative silence. 

"You men of Yabuli! Listen! Last night in 
the darkness the elephants robbed us of our food. 
Two moons ago we were treated in the same way by 
hippopotami who not only trampled our cassava 
and sugar-cane, but ate the roots. This is an un- 
happy time for us, for not only are our gardens 
ruined, but our goats and fowls, our only live stock, 
are always being stolen by leopards. Men of Ya- 
buli, the evil spirit is at work against us." 

For several minutes a general hubbub followed, 
until interrupted by a shrill female voice from a 
group of huts, some distance off. 

"I know why the elephants came to us last night. 
You remember that old monster elephant with big 
ears and only one tusk, the one we all call Litoi 
Linene — it was he that led the others to the planta- 
tion, for the evil spirit is in his heart, and it has been 
there ever since Ioko tried to spear him in the for- 
est. We shall never enjoy quietness until Litoi Linene 
is killed." 

Several voices shouted in favour of this last speech, 
and after about an hour's excited talk it was agreed 
that several traps should be arranged forthwith, in 
order if possible to put an end to the evil-spirited 
elephant Litoi Linene, who was credited with having 
worked so much ill to the tribe. 



116 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Soon after this village conclave most of the men 
started off in different directions far into the forest, 
which surrounded the village, to set snares with 
keen-bladed spears which they firmly fastened in 
heavy spars of wood and deftly suspended from 
branches overhead by an ingenious arrangement of 
small creepers, so that when an unsuspecting ele- 
phant wandered beneath and unwittingly broke the 
light creepers which held the trap in its place, the 
weighted spear would fall and inflict a wound in 
the back or shoulder, a wound that often proved 
fatal. 

All the main portion of the tribe were busy at this 
task until the sun went down, arranging the ele- 
phant snares in all the most likely places in the 
forest. The women were also absent, endeavour- 
ing to repair their damaged plantations. The village 
was deserted until sunset, when all returned to eat 
their evening meal of boiled cassava and plantains, 
after which they soon settled down to sleep. 

The night was very dark, and there was every 
evidence of the near approach of another storm 
of wind and rain equal to that of the previous night. 
The only persons who were not comfortably sleep- 
ing in their grass huts were two or three women 
who were sitting with crying babies in their arms 
outside their doors in front of the log-fires upon 
which their supper had been cooked. Soon even 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 117 

they retired for the night and gusts of wind blew 
sparks from the fires that were burning low. 

Sometimes a gaunt and bony pariah dog sneaked 
from one fire to another in a vain search for food, but 
before very long they were overcome with sleep and 
curled themselves up in the hot ashes of the fires. In 
the depths of the forest the only sounds were the 
hoarse croakings of frogs and the occasional flutter- 
ings of horn-bills and other large birds roosting in the 
tree-tops. As the night advanced and the darkness 
became more dense the air grew hot and heavy, and 
fierce gusts of wind whistled through the branches 
overhead, snapping off dead twigs. 

Far away in the forest there stood the huge form 
of an old bull elephant, one of whose tusks had been 
damaged in his youth and had become totally de- 
cayed. His head was bent forward in order to rest 
his one monster tusk upon the ground; his trunk 
loosely coiled between his fore-legs was also resting 
on the ground, and his great ragged ears were flap- 
ping spasmodically in vain endeavours to shake off 
the myriads of mosquitoes that persistently hovered 
around his head. 

Suddenly the forest was lit up by a most vivid 
flash of lightning followed an instant afterward by 
a crashing peal of thunder. The elephant raised 
his head with a startled jerk, his huge limbs shaking 
with fear. 



118 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Almost before the rumbling echoes of the thunder 
had died away the rain that had been threaten- 
ing for so many hours fell in torrents. Flashes of 
lightning succeeded each other so rapidly that the 
attendant peals of thunder were converted into one 
continuous roar, and the violence of the wind soon 
increased to a veritable tornado — a tropical hurri- 
cane. 

Trees were blown down and uprooted on all sides 
of the terrified elephant, who remained some time 
motionless from fear, but as the tempest continued 
the monster became suddenly panic-stricken and 
charged madly through the dense forest, stumbling 
and falling over the trunks of uprooted trees in his 
endeavours to gain some open patch where there 
would be no danger of being crushed by the falling 
timber. 

The lurid flashes of lightning revealed the fright- 
ened animal with coiled trunk and head bent low, 
blindly smashing a way through dense woods. 

Suddenly, in the midst of a mad rush, the ele- 
phant fell to the ground with a sharp squeal of pain. 
The poor brute had severed the vines that sup- 
ported one of the traps that had been arranged the 
previous day, and a heavily-weighted spear plunged 
between his shoulders. For some moments the 
wounded animal remained motionless ; then the great 
body rolled slowly from side to side in vain en- 




<5 - 



> I 

-c: 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 119 

deavour to free himself from the spear, but the 
weapon was barbed and the points had penetrated 
too deeply to be shaken off. 

After many efforts the animal at last got on his 
legs again and staggered a short distance through 
the forest until, growing rapidly weaker from loss 
of blood, he stopped to rest and leaned the weight 
of his body against a tree, breathing heavily in ag- 
ony. Here he remained, exhausted, until daybreak, 
his hide covered with patches of mud and deep red 
smears of blood. Gradually the rain ceased and the 
wind died away. With the first glimpse of dawn in 
the village there was creaking from the small square 
cane doors of the huts; as they were removed one 
by one, dark, manly figures, with long spears in their 
hands, stepped forth and stretched themselves after 
their night's heavy sleep. 

Hastily arranging their scanty loin-cloths of beaten 
bark, the men started into the dark woods, in dif- 
ferent directions, to examine their traps. 

The party entered the forest in single file but 
soon divided into small companies. Ioko took an 
entirely different route from the others, and when 
about two miles from the village he halted sud- 
denly, snapped his fingers, and placed his hand over 
his open mouth, saying to himself in a low tone : 

"Look at this elephant track! What a path is 
here!" He followed the trail for some time, until 



120 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

within view of the trap he had set the previous day, 
when his excitement became intense, for he found 
the spear was gone, and the grass and leaves be- 
neath the snare were covered with blood. He fol- 
lowed the blood-stained tracks until he approached 
a great ant-hill, near which he stopped a moment to 
extract a thorn from his foot. He was startled by a 
deep groan, and cautiously stepping forward, he 
saw his prey leaning its unwieldy form against the 
mound. 

"Lo-o-o! It is the evil one, Litoi Linene!" (Big 
Ears), gasped Ioko to himself excitedly. 

Carefully watching the animal, to decide in his 
own mind upon the best mode of spearing him in a 
vital part, he firmly gripped his heavy spear, the 
haft of which was fully eight feet long, and stepped 
softly forward until within reach of the left shoulder 
of the unconscious animal. With steady nerve he 
poised his weapon; then with a mighty plunge he 
drove the keen-bladed spear deep into the elephant's 
heart, and sprang away among the trees. With a 
shrill trumpeting cry of pain Litoi Linene staggered 
to his feet, swayed forward, quivered, and fell to the 
ground lifeless. 

Ioko, after waiting a few moments to satisfy him- 
self that the animal was dead, raised a cry that 
echoed through the woods, and which soon brought 
several of his companions to the spot. Without 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 121 

any further sign of excitement he quietly busied 
himself in cutting his barbed spear from the car- 
case. He then examined the one large tusk and the 
decayed stump of its fellow, remarking to his com- 
panions who were now arriving: 

"Now the evil spirit is dead; Litoi Linene will 
lead no more devilish elephants to our plantations." 

In a very short time the scene became indescrib- 
able. Excited men with sharp knives commenced 
cutting lumps of meat from the still warm carcase 
and throwing them to the eager women and chil- 
dren, who crowded around with baskets, quarrelling 
like wild animals over the possession of each piece 
of flesh that was thrown among them. The sav- 
ages' hearts were filled with joy at the prospect of 
a huge feast. 

That night, under cover of the darkness, Ioko, all 
alone, buried the one heavy tusk of Litoi Linene in 
a swamp far from the village, so that only he him- 
self knew of the place of concealment. He hid the 
tusk according to the tribal custom, for in the 
Aruwimi districts the people of neighbouring villages 
are seldom good friends, and they all have a habit 
of attacking each other at odd times in order to 
capture men, women and children for cannibal pur- 
poses. As tusks of ivory have an acknowledged 
value, equal to that of a human being, it is custom- 
ary for the members of each village to conceal in the 



122 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

forests as many tusks as they can obtain, so that 
they may be in a position to redeem, if permitted, 
any of their companions who may be unfortunate 
enough to fall into the hands of their hostile neigh- 
bours. 

For five years the tusk lay hidden beneath the 
foul mud and long grass in the dismal swamp. No 
human foot ever ventured into the treacherous 
quagmire, and only at rare intervals small parties 
of natives, darting among the forest trees in search 
of wild honey, or in an exciting chase of bushbuck, 
broke the silence. 

In the oppressive heat at midday a solitary buf- 
falo, in search of a cool bath, would sometimes 
flounder in the mud; or a small herd of elephants, 
strolling idly through the forest in single file, led 
by the father of the party, an irritable old bull ele- 
phant, would occasionally wade clumsily through 
the deepest part, splashing the black mud over 
each other and flapping their great ears to drive 
away the swarms of flies that hovered around their 
heads. 

A dense, white, miasmatic fog enveloped the 
swamp every evening after sunset, and hung over 
the tall reeds like a silken canopy until long after 
sunrise. 

During the five years that the tusk lay hidden 
in the swamp, but little change had taken place in 




IT 





Native fighting knife and sheath, Manyema 

In the collection of the Author 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 123 

the village of Yabuli. The direction of the paths 
had been somewhat altered, as many of the huts had 
been rebuilt; for being composed of light materials 
such as fine grass and leaves, with the lighter frame- 
work of cornstalks, they soon became rotten, and 
it is necessary to repair them after every rainy sea- 
son and to rebuild the huts every few years. 

It happened one day that the occupants of a fish- 
ing canoe returned to Yabuli in a great state of ex- 
citement. They had been down the river fishing 
near the village of Basoko, which is situated at the 
confluence of the Aruwimi and the Congo, and they 
had heard wonderful accounts of a fight that had 
taken place a few days before, between the fierce 
men of Basoko and a party of strangers who were 
drifting down the Congo River in war-canoes. The 
story of this remarkable adventure had been greatly 
embellished, according to African custom, by the 
friendly Basoko who related it to the Yabuli fisher- 
men, and they in their turn quite naturally rendered 
the recital still more grotesque, when they repeated 
it to the crowd of eager listeners who thronged the 
river bank, attracted by the fishermen's cries: 

"Uku uku-u, uku-uku-u, u-u!" (Come! come! 
come !) 

"The chief of the strangers was covered with 
cloth, and his face was white, and it shone like sun- 
light on the river," said they. 



124 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

"Ekh! what strange things," the crowd exclaimed. 

"The stranger chief had only one eye." 

"Lo-o-o!" 

"It was in the middle of his forehead." 

"A-yah! a-yah!" roared the crowd, clapping 
their hands. "When the Basoko went out on the 
river in their war -canoes to fight and capture the 
strangers, they cried, 'Meat! meat!' for they in- 
tended eating their bodies, but they were not to 
be captured, and they killed many of the Basoko 
with sticks, which sent forth thunder and lightning. 
They spoke words in a strange tongue. They wore 
red cloth, and blue cloth, and their heads were 
covered with white cloth. They have drifted on down 
the river and passed the strong Basoko with jeers." 

At the end of each of the fishermen's sentences 
the crowd uttered exclamations of wonder. The 
old women, always superstitious, raised their voices 
and said that the evil spirit was at the bottom of it 
all, and that a day of trouble was coming to all the 
country. Whole days were spent in excited talk 
about the strangers, for never in their recollection 
had they heard of such people before. 

Now this man, this chief of the strangers, whose 
white face they said shone like "sunlight on the 
river," was none other than Stanley, with his gal- 
lant little band of Zanzibar men. At the time of his 
passing Basoko, he had spent upward of two years 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 125 

travelling in Central Africa, engaged in solving the 
great geographical problems which had hitherto 
puzzled the world, and to which the brave-hearted 
Livingstone had devoted so many years of his val- 
uable life, dying in harness when upon the thresh- 
old of success. 

At this time there was established at Nyangwe, 
the advance post of the Arab slave-raiders from 
the East Coast, under the leadership of the famous 
Tippo Tib, who soon after Stanley's departure 
down the Congo, persuaded his companions to set 
out on the same journey. They recruited a large 
number of fighting men from different parts of the 
Manyema country, and fought their way down the 
river as far as the Kizingiti cataract, where Tippo 
Tib established himself as chief of the Arabs. Large 
bands of these Manyema were despatched from 
Stanley Falls in different directions, after the fashion 
of blood-hounds, to obtain tusks of ivory from the 
natives by whatever means they chose. 

As a rule each of these parties was divided into 
sections, different Arabs contributing ten or twenty 
armed men, each with one man of higher caste 
elected as leader. Tippo Tib usually contributed 
the largest number of men and appointed the leader 
himself. After an absence of many months, when 
one of the companies returned to headquarters with 
slaves and ivory, the booty was divided among the 



126 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Arabs according to the number of men contributed 
by each. The ivory was sent up-river to Nyangwe 
in canoes, and thence it was carried overland to 
the East Coast by large slave caravans, the journey 
occupying between six months and a year. 

During all these eventful days in the history of 
Central Africa, Litoi Linene's tusk lay unheeded in 
the swamp. With the new generation, all recollection 
of the elephant Litoi Linene had died away, and his 
massive bones had long since disappeared in the high 
grass and brushwood that had rapidly grown up from 
the soil that his carcase had enriched. Even the 
existence of his tusk, the only substantial relic of his 
former greatness, had almost been forgotten by every- 
body except Ioko. 

While the chief topic of conversation with the large 
majority of the villagers was still about the strange 
white man's journey past the dreaded Basoko, yet a 
few men, including Ioko, often spoke of the evil 
elephant. Although since its death several elephants 
had been killed by means of spear-snares and pit- 
falls cunningly concealed with light brushwood, yet 
no one had ever obtained such a large tusk of ivory 
from any of the other elephants as from Litoi Linene, 
and another reason for attaching such importance to 
the death of this animal was the belief that Ioko had 
exterminated the power to effect evil that Litoi Linene 
had been credited with possessing. Since his death 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 127 

their plantations had been comparatively undisturbed 
by big game, and this fact alone went far to encourage 
the belief that they had disposed of an evil spirit. 

Soon after Tippo Tib's occupation of Stanley Falls 
in 1879, rumours reached Yabuli and the neighbour- 
ing villages of oppression and persecution by the 
Manyema. Chiefs met together to inquire of each 
other the reason of this invasion. Less than three 
years after Stanley's fight with the Basoko at the 
mouth of the Aruwimi, the Manyema mercenaries 
of the Arabs attacked and destroyed several villages 
higher up the same river, having travelled overland 
from the Congo through the forests and descended 
the Aruwimi River in canoes. They laid waste all 
the villages by the way, capturing men and women 
and imposing fines of ivory for their redemption 
upon those of the natives who were fortunate enough 
to escape to the woods. Although every precaution 
was taken by the people of Yabuli to guard against 
surprise, they instinctively felt impending evil and 
a gloom settled over the village affecting old and 
young alike. They all appeared to realise their iso- 
lated position, escape being impossible as their neigh- 
bours were at enmity with them and with each other, 
and the poor wretches lived in a condition of fear 
bordering upon panic. 

At last the evil day arrived. Early one morning, 
just before daybreak, they were suddenly startled by 



128 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

the loud reports of the Manyema guns. The forest 
around the village appeared alive with armed men, 
who rushed among their dwellings from all sides, 
firing recklessly, sometimes in the air, into the doors 
of the huts, and at the panic-stricken savages, who 
rushed toward the woods for shelter. A few of the 
braver natives stood their ground, and hurled spears 
and knives at their opponents, but one by one they 
dropped, shot by their brutal enemies. After firing 
their muzzle-loading muskets, many of the Manyema 
rushed upon the natives and clubbed them with the 
butt-ends. The women encumbered with their chil- 
dren, whom they were bravely trying to carry off to 
the shelter of the woods, were soon overtaken by 
the Manyema, who roughly threw them to the ground 
and bound their arms and legs. Nearly two-thirds 
of the women and children were captured, including 
the favourite wife of Ioko ; but many of the men and 
a few women reached the woods. Ioko, although 
wounded by a slug of copper from a Manyema mus- 
ket, had also escaped. 

During the day the fugitives in the forest gradually 
congregated together, and by nightfall they had 
formed a few rough huts with light brushwood and 
broad leaves, which, when fastened together in rows 
by the stalks, each row overlapping the other, formed 
a sufficient shelter from the rain. This primitive 
encampment in the forest was a considerable distance 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 129 

from their former village, now completely in the 
possession of the Manyema. 

The leader of the Arab buccaneers, Muini Kha- 
mici, had taken up his quarters in the largest hut 
in the village, which happened to be the property of 
poor Ioko. A rough stockade of brushwood was 
placed around the huts, in order to guard against 
all danger of a sudden night attack. 

The bodies of the slain had been thrown into the 
river, and the captured women, naked, and trembling 
with fear, many of them with their arms tied behind 
them, were grouped together and placed in charge 
of Manyema headmen. Others of the marauding 
band proceeded from hut to hut collecting the trifles 
of domestic furniture used by the natives, consisting 
chiefly of small wooden stools, mats, cooking-pots, 
and ivory pestles used for pounding cassava. 

A few days after the Manyema had attacked 
Yabuli, they released two of the captive women to 
convey a message to the fugitives in the forest. These 
women were selected as being of little value, for 
they were old and feeble. Women are very lightly 
esteemed by the natives and are mere slaves, whose 
only duty is to bear children, cultivate the soil, and 
prepare food for their masters. 

"Go to your men, who have sought refuge in the 
forest," said Muini Khamici, the bandit leader. 
"Tell them their women are alive, and that we will 



130 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

set them free when they bring us the tusks of ivory 
that they have hidden in the woods; we will sur- 
render a woman for each tusk. If they do not come 
to us with ivory on the fifth day from now, we shall 
take the women to another country and sell them 
to people who will kill and eat them. Kwenda!" 

When the two poor old women fully realised they 
were free, they darted into the woods, one after the 
other, displaying wonderful agility in picking their 
way through the dense undergrowth, and they finally 
halted, breathless, and trembling with excitement. 

"Oh, ma-ma — ma-ma-a-a!" they cried in a wail- 
ing monotone as they cowered on the ground, until, 
recovering strength and courage, they resumed their 
way, now calling loudly, now listening for a response 
from their friends, who were camped in the forest. 
At last, hearing an answer in the distance to their 
echoing calls, they started off in that direction, and 
were soon in the midst of an eager crowd. It was a 
pitiful picture, the meeting of these poor women with 
the fugitives, who were all excited, and fearful of 
every sound in the woods around them. 

The women were too bewildered at first to answer 
all their questions, but they finally managed to ex- 
plain their message; the men in anger snapped their 
fingers and ground their teeth. Ioko sat apart from 
his noisy companions, in moody silence, for his 
favourite wife, Kaolenge (the Strong One), with her 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 131 

baby, had been captured by the Manyema, and 
his heart ached. The African savage is apparently 
incapable of any constant affection, but occasionally 
he does possess a tender, though rugged regard for 
a favourite wife. Ioko had almost given up hope 
of recovering his Strong One ; but now that he knew 
by what means he could redeem her, his spirits 
revived, and he determined to offer the Manyema 
his most valuable possession, the tusk of Litoi 
Linene. 

In the dead of night, with a fire-brand to light 
him through the forest, Ioko wended his way to the 
swamp where the tusk had been so long buried. 
He continued prodding the soft mud with his spear, 
until striking a hard substance, he discovered the 
object of his search ; and with considerable labour he 
succeeded in unearthing his buried treasure. Lifting 
the burden upon his powerful shoulders, and picking 
up his spear and fire-brand, which he blew into a 
glow, he returned to the camp and lay for the re- 
mainder of the night with the tusk beside him, his 
heart beating fast with excitement at the prospect of 
dealing with the treacherous Manyema on the morrow. 

At the first ray of dawn he wakened his companions 
to tell them of his intention of testing the truth of the 
Manyema's message by offering the tusk of Litoi 
Linene in exchange for his wife and child; and they 
all agreed, if Ioko's undertaking proved successful, 



132 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

they would unearth their hidden tusks to redeem 
their own women and children. When Ioko drew 
near the Manyema stockade, his companions, who 
had followed to see the result of his errand, hid 
themselves behind the trees at the edge of the forest. 
It was daylight by this time and the Manyema were 
moving about among the huts. 

"Naonga!" ("I say") called Ioko from the woods. 
"Is it true that our women are alive ?" 

"It is indeed true," replied Muini Khamici, who 
was well enough acquainted with the Aruwimi dia- 
lects. 

Ioko called again from the woods: "I bring an 
elephant's tusk for Kaolenge and her child; but first 
let me hear her voice, that I may know you speak 
truly." , 

After a short consultation a woman's voice called 
from the village: 

"I am Kaolenge. Oh Ioko, I am your Kaolenge." 

Ioko then stepped boldly forward, and laying the 
tusk upon the ground, he retreated again behind 
the trees. Several of the Manyema pointed their 
guns to the forest to protect themselves from any 
treachery on the part of the natives, whilst others 
rushed for the tusk, which they carried to Muini 
Khamici, who stood by the entrance to the stockade. 

Orders were then given to free Kaolenge, and 
when the bonds were cut from the poor woman's 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 133 

arms, she caught up her baby and fled like a deer to 
the forest, crying piteously. Ioko seized her by the 
wrist and led her further into the forest, when she 
fell cowering upon the ground at his feet, sobbing 
deeply, as she clasped her baby tightly to her breast. 

During the next few days, many other women 
were ransomed by their masters, and when there was 
no longer any prospect of obtaining more ivory from 
Yabuli, Muini Khamici and his gang evacuated the 
village, taking with them the remaining slaves — 
men, women, and children. They were now bound 
for Kizingiti, having obtained the amount of ivory 
expected of them by the Arabs. 

Crossing the Aruwimi River in native canoes, the 
caravan, which now numbered about three hundred 
people, two-thirds of whom were slaves, started on 
an overland march to the Congo River, which was 
reached at a place called Yangambi. This journey 
occupied five days, and the forests through which 
they traversed were dark and gloomy, the under- 
growth being so thick in some places that they fre- 
quently had to follow the beds of small streams and 
elephant paths whenever they found them leading in 
a south-easterly direction. 

The tusk of Litoi Linene, being too heavy for one 
man to carry, was lashed to a pole and borne by two 
slaves. The captive women carried the lighter tusks 
and a large collection of native utensils, consisting 



134 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

principally of small wooden stools, ivory pestles, cook- 
ing-pots and grass mats, all of which were the recog- 
nised perquisites of the Manyema, who themselves 
carried only their guns and ammunition, and acted 
as guards to the caravan, while their wives, who were 
also from the Manyema country, carried fowls, bas- 
kets of maize, long stalks of sugar-cane, and other 
provisions, all stolen from the native villages. 

When they reached Yangambi the whole company 
embarked in native canoes and were paddled up 
the river, four days' journey, by friendly natives. At 
Kizingiti the slaves were distributed among certain 
Arabs' plantations, and the ivory was piled up in a 
hut where Tippo Tib divided the spoil between the 
Arabs who had a share in the expedition. Tippo 
Tib selected his own share with his customary shrewd- 
ness, and included the tusk of Litoi Linene, which he 
presented to a favourite wife of his harem, who con- 
cealed it in one of the dark rooms of his tembe, where 
for nearly six years it lay, covered with mats and 
rubbish, and was apparently forgotten. 

As time passed, Tippo Tib discarded his once fa- 
vourite wife, and Litoi Linene's tusk was confiscated 
and was among the first that were sold to a white 
trader, and soon it was stowed away with the others 
in the hold of the little river steamer which travelled 
down the Congo to Stanley Pool, past the riverside 
villages of thousands of savages, stopping each even- 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 135 

ing at sunset, alongside the forest bank, where, by 
the flickering light of camp fires, the crew of the 
steamer cut dry wood into short lengths to provide 
fuel for the engine's furnace, and all night long 
merry songs of men and sounds of axes echoed 
through the dark, silent forest. 

After sixteen days' journey down the Congo, the 
little steamer dropped anchor, and the tusks of ivory 
that had been all that time stowed in the dark hold 
were taken ashore and placed under guard in a rude 
structure that served for a store-house; for up to 
that time European traders had not been able to 
erect any permanent buildings, for want of the neces- 
sary materials. The ivory did not remain here long, 
for as soon as the natives could be engaged to carry it 
down country, the tusks were brought out, marked, 
and placed in a row. At a given signal the carriers, 
who had been keenly watching these proceedings, 
rushed wildly forward in order to select the lighter 
tusks, and soon all were appropriated, except the tusk 
of Litoi Linene, which no one volunteered to carry on 
account of its weight. The trader tried in vain to 
persuade different men to take it, but they emphat- 
ically shook their open hands and one man said: 

"Ve, ve, yae mzito bene mundili, kulenda kwami 
ko, sea mona mpassi nyingi kuna ngila." [No, no* 
it is very heavy, white man ; I cannot carry it, I should 
see too much trouble on the path.] 



136 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Eventually it was arranged that this tusk should 
be lashed on a pole and carried by two men, each 
being paid the same amount of cotton cloth as if 
carrying a full load. The caravan consisted of fifty 
men and boys, all belonging to the Bakongo tribe, 
under a headman or Kapita. 

From Stanley Pool the series of cataracts, which 
extend a distance of two hundred miles to Matadi, 
render it necessary to transport merchandise, ivory, 
and all other loads, overland, and small companies 
were recruited from different parts of the Lower 
Congo country, under a responsible headman, to 
carry the burdens on their heads and shoulders. 
This journey was divided into two stages of a 
hundred miles each, and a transfer was made at 
Manyanga, as the people above and below this place 
are not always on good terms with each other, al- 
though they are apparently of the same tribe and 
speak the same language. 

The first stage of this overland journey from Stan- 
ley Pool to Manyanga occupied six days, and the little 
caravan wended its way up and down hills, which af- 
forded beautiful views of the distant country and the 
mighty Congo surging and eddying between its pre- 
cipitous banks. But scenic magnificence is unnoticed 
and unappreciated by the Bakongo carrier, whose sen- 
sual tastes are more influenced by a gaudy-coloured 
cloth, or a feast of elephant beef. 





i . 







Native fighting knife and sheath, Rua 

In the collection of the Author 



THE TALE OF A TUSK OF IVORY 137 

At Manyanga the ivory was transferred to another 
caravan, which journeyed seven days over steep hills, 
through deep swamps, and across numerous small 
rivers, until Matadi was reached. The ivory was 
then placed on board a river steamer, which con- 
veyed it in two days to Banana, the trading depot at 
the mouth of the Congo. Here Litoi Linene's tusk 
was stored away with hundreds of others that had 
previously been sent down from the far interior, until 
the arrival of an ocean steamer, which conveyed the 
whole accumulation to Liverpool, where it was shortly 
afterwards sold by auction. 

Litoi Linene's tusk, which had passed through so 
many strange phases, was now consigned to an ivory 
carver and turner, who ingeniously converted its 
hard substance into billiard balls, paper-knives, and 
various articles for the toilet table. And when the 
turner's work was finished, the little mound of 
ivory dust beneath his lathe was all that remained 
there of the tusk of the evil-spirited elephant Litoi 
Linene. 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 

I once by mischance shot a cow elephant. The ele- 
phant emerged suddenly from long grass at the edge 
of a wood. After it had fallen dead, its little young 
one suddenly appeared. It could not have been 
more than a few weeks old. I was accompanied by 
two Houssas, men of great size and strength, and we 
three ran forward to catch the little fellow. 

The Houssas each grabbed a leg, and seated them- 
selves upon the ground. I took hold of an ear. 

The dear little animal stood quite quietly for some 
time, and then, apparently resenting this interference 
with his freedom, he shook his head, throwing me on 
my back, cast off the two Houssas, and trotting away 
to the bush he soon disappeared from sight. 

A native coming to me at dawn, told me that he 
knew of the whereabouts of elephants. He led the 
way. After travelling several times the distance he 
had previously indicated, I expostulated with him 
for lying, and refused to go further. It was the early 
part of the afternoon. He replied: 

138 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 139 

"Oh, you had better come on now! It is further 
for you to go back to your camp than it is to go to 
where the elephants actually are." 



Near Wamba I shot a solitary rogue elephant 
without tusks. He was standing at the edge of a 
forest. I fired three times at his head before he fell, 
and as he recovered from my second shot he came 
towards me tearing up a small tree on his way, 
enveloping himself in dust. He was charging when 
my third shot took effect. 

The natives were soon attracted by the reports of 
my rifle, and were highly elated at the prospect of a 
banquet upon the elephant's remains. My disap- 
pointment at obtaining no ivory must have been 
apparent to the old native chief, for he said in his 
soft musical language: 

"I suppose the white man looks sad, because the 
elephant had no valuable ivory. But he need not be 
sad, for see what happiness is ours! See what a 
quantity of meat there is for us!" 

Going after elephants in a valley which was very 
much overgrown with high grass, I conceived the 
idea of sitting on the shoulders of a native follower, 
a man of giant stature. 

The plan succeeded admirably and we approached 



140 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

stealthily almost within gunshot of a fine bull ele- 
phant standing dozing, apart from the herd. 

Just as I raised my gun to fire, my support van- 
ished from beneath me and I was plunged into the 
thick black mire. It took some little time to recover 
myself and to obtain explanations, but I eventually 
found that my carrier had almost stepped upon a 
python, whose head, he said, was raised level with 
his eyes. 

A somewhat similar experience occurred to me in 
stalking buffaloes in high grass. I heard a hissing 
sound which I took to be the snorting of a buffalo. 
With my gun I parted the grass in front of me as far 
as I could reach. To my horror I suddenly caught 
sight of the head of a python, swaying gently back- 
wards and forwards. 

For a brief second, fascination held me motionless. 
Then I dropped my gun and ran. 

;$s % % H< * 

By my faulty aim I once wounded an elephant. 
Starting at dawn, I followed its track all day. The 
country was very rough, and taxed my endurance to 
the utmost. About sundown, when I came up with 
the wounded elephant, in a little belt of wood, I had 
barely strength enough to fire a last shot. After it 
had fallen dead I clambered on the carcase, and 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 141 

vomited from sheer exhaustion. I passed the entire 
night lying on the body. It rained heavily. 

H« * * jH ^ 

It is no uncommon thing for hitherto populous 
districts to be deserted on account of the marauding 
of elephants, and the depredations they caused in the 
native plantations. Elephants frequently swim across 
the Congo. The whole of the body is submerged, 
their trunks and the top of their heads alone being 
above water. 

The natives remarked about the elephants and buf- 
faloes, that although they are found frequently to- 
gether, there is always a certain amount of ill-feeling 
existing between them, and the natives ascribe it as 
being due to the elephants' cleanly habits, and their 
resentment of the buffaloes' carelessness. Elephants 
frequently cover their dung with a leafy bough. 

It is extraordinary to notice the way in which both 
elephants and buffaloes will help the wounded one of 
a herd to escape, even though the beast may be very 
badly injured. 

Elephants are gregarious. For food they are es- 
pecially fond of the succulent branches and young 
twigs of certain trees and fruits, and tender bark. 

The elephant seldom lies down. He sleeps on his 
four legs, leaning his body against a rock or tree or 



142 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

ant-hill, and resting the points of his tusks upon the 
ground in front of him. 

The elephant's trunk is in the first place an organ 
of smell. Secondly it enables the animal to quench 
its thirst in the shallowest waters and to reach the 
twigs upon which it feeds, and thirdly it possesses a 
wonderful sense of touch. 

The meat of elephants is very highly thought of 
by the natives, but my experience certainly gave me 
the impression that no portion of the animal was fit 
for food in any form whatever, however long a time 
was spent in cooking it. The flesh of the young 
hippopotamus however is delicious — or it appeared 
so to us in Africa. In flavour it resembled a blend 
between pork and beef. 

***** 

By the evidence of coins the African elephant is 
proved to have been utilised by man in the days of 
the Carthaginians. Since that time the art of taming 
the African elephant has been lost. The fact that the 
African elephant is not now tamed and reduced to the 
service of man, as is the Asiatic species, is due more 
to the difference in the condition of the tribes of 
Africa, and their inferior civilisation, than to any 
defect in the docility of the African elephant. 
***** 

In a Lower Congo village I remarked a series of 
peculiar scars upon the leg of a native, at strangely 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 143 

regular intervals. The explanation given was that 
this man once when drunk, went to sleep on a native 
path. A python discovered him and commenced to 
swallow him by the leg. At a critical moment he 
was found, and the natives forthwith released the 
man by killing the python. The snake's teeth had 
marked parallel scars at equal distances up the 
man's leg. 

One evening at dusk I marked down a fine fat 
guinea fowl roosting in the branches of a tree some 
little distance off in swampy ground by the river side. 
Cautiously approaching, in order to make sure of my 
aim, for it was necessary to economise cartridges, I 
crept stealthily forward, my eyes being riveted upon 
the bird above and my mind concentrated upon a 
prospective supper of grilled guinea fowl. 

Suddenly it seemed to me as though the whole 
earth arose in front of me. I had stumbled on to 
the back of a sleeping hippopotamus. It would be 
difficult to say which of us was the most startled. 
The hippopotamus dashed to the river, whilst I 
picked myself up, and searched for my gun. In the 
meantime the guinea fowl flew away. 

% sfc Jfc ifc 5fc 

I had shot a buffalo during the afternoon, close to 
Makola's village, and the evening was merry, there 
being a sufficient supply of meat to satisfy all hands. 



144 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

We supped in the open air, sitting around the crack- 
ling fire, and the meat was cut in roughly hewn 
steaks which were grilled upon pieces of stick stuck 
up over the fire. 

Having no tent, I accepted Chief Makola's hos- 
pitality, he offering me the shelter of his hut. His 
cane bed was situated at the far end of the hut. My 
camp bed, with its mosquito curtain, was put up in 
the middle. 

I soon fell asleep, being wearied by the day's ex- 
citement. I was awakened suddenly by the clank- 
ing of the brass bracelets and anklets worn by the 
chief. Being in utter darkness I required a moment 
or two to realise where I was. The chief had evi- 
dently over-eaten himself, and was suffering from 
bad dreams. I awakened him from his nightmare 
by throwing something in his direction, and he soon 
recomposed himself to sleep. 

For a few minutes all was quiet again. Just as I 
was on the point of falling off to sleep again I heard 
the ominous grunts of an old sow, rooting at my 
mosquito curtains. I flung my boots at it. Some 
little time was occupied in expelling the intruder, and 
once more I stretched myself out to sleep, and was 
just dozing when several native dogs, who evidently 
belonged to the house, commenced a furious fight 
over the remains of my supper, which I had care- 
fully placed under my bed for safe keeping. In 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 145 

springing up to save my prospective breakfast, I 
became entangled in the mosquito curtain, and the 
whole concern fell with a crash. 

The chief jumped up very much alarmed, the dogs 
yelped, and soon the general uproar extended to the 
occupants of neighbouring huts. 

I spent the rest of the evening sitting over the dying 
embers of the fire outside. 

Although the roar of lions may be heard at rare 
intervals, they seldom frequent the region of the 
Congo River. On the shore of the Kwa-mouth I 
once followed the tracks of a lion across an open 
plain to the point at which it had entered a small 
belt of forest. It was nearly sundown, but I mus- 
tered my courage and entered the forest, remaining 
there in a vain search until dark. I recall this in- 
cident because it marked the occasion of my life 
when I was most conscious of absolute fear. 

jfc * 2f= * % 

It is astonishing how familiarity with danger soon 
renders men indifferent to it. For example, the 
Upper Congo is infested with crocodiles, and yet one 
finds the natives bathing and swimming and utterly 
ignoring the existence of these creatures in spite of 
frequent fatalities. 

I remember being in the midst of a merry group 
of children who were bathing in the shallow water at 



146 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

the edge of the Congo near Lulungu, when suddenly 
a crocodile emerged from the river and rapidly dash- 
ing through their midst, it seized a chubby little fel- 
low who was standing some dozen yards up the bank 
away from the water. A second later and the croco- 
dile with its prey had disappeared in the river. 

Upon another occasion I saw a crocodile seize a 
native who was sitting in the stern of his canoe, idly 
drifting. With a stroke of its tail and a turn of the 
jaws the man disappeared ; there was a tinge of blood 
upon the water and the canoe drifted away empty. 

I once dived from a little stern-wheel steamer in 
which a party of us were travelling on the Upper 
Congo. The moment I reappeared on the surface of 
the water I was conscious by the expression on the 
faces of my companions that there was danger in my 
vicinity. With two or three strokes I reached the 
vessel's side, and as I clambered up hastily a large 
crocodile bumped heavily against the iron sheathing, 
just at the spot where I had left the water. One of 
my companions fired and wounded it. 

^c ^e s}c ^c ^c 

The late Major Parminter once related to me an 
interesting incident. Seeing a dead chimpanzee in 
a native village, he affected to be much impressed by 
the similarity in the features of some of the natives 
around with those of the chimpanzee. 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 147 

"Hum!" growled an old savage. "Your words 
may be true; but I say chimpanzees are full of 
wisdom, like the white man." 

"Yes," echoed another stepping forward, and part- 
ing the hair upon the monkey's shoulder: "chimpan- 
zees are much more like the white man than they 
are like us, for see, their skin is white!" 

During a long canoe journey on the Upper Congo, 
I carried with me four or five very talkative gray 
parrots, which had been given to me by the wife of 
the famous Arab Rachid, and taught by her to pro- 
nounce phrases in the Kiswahili language. 

Drifting down the river, past the vast primeval 
forest, flocks of wild gray parrots used frequently to 
fly over our heads whistling and shrieking. The at- 
tention of my pets was soon aroused, and it appeared 
strangely incongruous to hear my birds calling out to 
the wild ones as they flew past: 

"Good morning! What news! I hope you are 
well! Sit still! Don't disturb yourself!" 

* * * * * 

In company with Roger Casement on one oc- 
casion I camped in a wood, and in the evening while 
sitting in front of our camp fire, we discussed that 
great work of Schweinfurth, "The Heart of Africa," 
a book that we had both recently read. We talked 
together of the extraordinary ways of the ants de- 



148 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

scribed therein, and of their methods of journeying 
in huge armies from one district to another. 

A remarkable coincidence occurred. Our native 
followers suddenly called our attention to an army of 
ants moving in our direction. Myriads of ants were 
passing close to our tent in a compact mass, and for 
some hours, with the aid of fire-brands, we watched 
the extraordinary progress of these insects. 

I frequently observed myriads of white butterflies 
all flying in one direction, giving the impression of 
a white cloud passing beside the forest, always fol- 
lowing the side of the river. 1 

%. %. jjj % He 

The pariah dog resembles the Australian dingo. 
It has a foxy head, sharp nose, and pricked, trian- 
gular ears, smooth, fawn-coloured coat, and coiled 
tail. It wails and howls, but never barks. 

The allusion to their coiled tails recalls an amus- 
ing remark of Livingstone's. He had heard it said 
that this twist in the dog's tail was always inclined 
to follow the same direction. Every time he heard a 

1 The Annals and Magazine of Natural History for January, 1891, con- 
tains a detailed description of four new species of Lepidoptera collected by 
the author. They are named as follows: 

Romaleosoma Sarita, sp. n. 

Romaleosoma Herberti, sp. n. 

Girpa Wardi, sp. n. 

Romaleosoma rubronotata. 
A pamphlet published by Emily Mary Sharpe in 1891 describes seventy- 
four rare specimens of Lepidoptera collected at Bangala and other places 
on the Upper Congo by the author. 



STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS 149 

pariah dog yelping he said that he felt an irresistible 
inclination to run and ascertain which side his tail 
coiled. 

At Lukungu, in the cataract region, the natives 
once came to Ingham and myself to complain of the 
evil ways of a crocodile, which roamed about the 
valley in a most dangerous manner. The crocodile 
was said to have killed many people. Instead of 
confining itself to the vicinity of the river, after the 
manner of crocodiles in general, this reptile was 
known to travel quite long distances away from its 
natural element. 

At night when all was still, we sometimes heard 
what appeared to us to be a hoarse, asthmatical- 
sounding cough, and it was by these strange sounds 
that we were able to locate our quarry. After much 
difficulty and the expenditure of several cartridges, 
we succeeded in killing the crocodile. The natives 
were much excited ; they dashed forward and stabbed 
the body with their knives. It was a large crocodile 
and evidently of great age. In order to preserve the 
skin, the body was cut open, and examination of 
the stomach revealed two iron anklets which had 
been worn by one of its victims, a young girl who 
had mysteriously disappeared some time before. 



ODDITIES 

In order to relieve the monotony of my station life, 
I endeavoured to institute an athletic meeting 
among the natives of the surrounding villages. Such 
a thing was an entire novelty in [the country, where 
indeed the advent of the white man dated but a few 
months back. 

The chiefs with whom I discussed the matter 
readily agreed to bring their most powerful young 
men on the day appointed. They assented to my 
suggestions with so little surprise as to make it diffi- 
cult for me to realise that I was introducing to them 
an entertainment of quite a strange character. 

Early on the day fixed for the sports I was startled 
by gun-firing. Volleys were fired at regular inter- 
vals; indeed the firing lasted until about ten o'clock, 
by which time I found my station crowded by between 
five and six hundred natives. 

To provide refreshments for the party I had three 
large pigs roasted whole, and in addition to a limited 
quantity of palm-wine, which was scarce at that time, 
I had my two zinc baths filled with water so as to save 

150 



ODDITIES 151 

my guests the trouble of going down the hill to the 
stream, which was some three hundred yards away. 

I soon discovered that the unanimous wish of the 
people was to begin proceedings by partaking of 
refreshments, and although this was quite contrary 
to the usual custom followed at athletic meetings, I 
gave way. By noon, provisions were exhausted, and 
there remained at the bottom of the two baths only 
a little greasy water where the natives had stooped 
down to drink after eating their fill of fat pork. 

The first item on the programme was a hundred 
yards race, in which every one seemed eager to enter. 
It was in vain that I tried to persuade them to relin- 
quish their spears and shields; they explained to me 
that they could run just as well with them as with- 
out them. The starting of this race was a most 
laborious business; handicapping was out of the 
question, and the line, when they all stood ready to 
go, extended for some distance. 

I had arranged to start them with a pistol-shot. 
After numberless false starts and a good deal of 
angry wrangling, wherein one-half of the company 
appeared to lose their tempers and the other half 
to become sulky, I at length succeeded in getting 
them off. 

Immediately all was chaos. The native idea 
seemed to be to win by disabling one's adversaries, 
and the race resolved itself into one wild struggle, 



152 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

during which most of those engaged found them- 
selves on the ground. 

The winning post was passed by about fifty men 
en masse. 

I at last realised the difficulty of the situation. 
It was perfectly hopeless to explain matters. Every 
man who started in the race came to me claiming 
a prize, each one arguing that as he entered for the 
event he was justly entitled to reward. 

Angry words were soon followed by blows, and 
during the remainder of the afternoon I found myself 
in the midst of a violent, turbulent mob of people 
who were apparently bereft of all reason. 

The various chiefs next came to me for payment 
not only for their services, but also for the services of 
their people who had run in the race, and also for the 
gunpowder which they had expended in the morning, 
in order, so they said, to give the affair a good send-off. 

It was late that night before my station resumed 
its normal quiet, and as I stretched myself out for the 
night, it was with the full conviction that the time 
for introducing sporting events in that part of the 
country was not yet ripe. 

* * * * sH 

Kroo boys, brought down by outward-bound ships 
from the Kroo Coast, were generally employed as 
personnel in the trading houses situated around the 
mouth of the Congo. Their services were paid for in 



Wm0* 



- nirfr*' 




% 



m$ 



Studies by the Author 



ODDITIES 153 

kind — flint-lock guns and cotton cloth — and it was 
customary each Sunday to allow the Kroo Boys to 
view the contents of the stores so that they might 
feast their eyes upon the bales of cloth, the hogs- 
heads of rum, and the piles of bran-new guns. 

The Kroo Boys were christened by the sailors of 
the ships that brought them from their homes on the 
Kroo Coast, their names being frequently pricked 
in tin plates which they wore around their necks. 

It was somewhat incongruous to see a gigantic Kroo 
Boy christened "Butterfly." Other favoured names 
were: " Wash-a-Crocodile," "Snowball," "Tin-pot," 
"Flying Jib," and "Sea-breeze." These names im- 
parted a comic aspect to life in a trading house, when, 
for example, one would hear that "Pea Soup" had 
stolen from "Saturday Night," or that a quarrel was 
going on between "Red Herring" and "Bottle-of- 
Beer." 

Among the little band of Zanzibaris who accompan- 
ied me in my canoe journey down the Upper Congo 
were two men who bore singular names — Juma Mak- 
engeza, the literal translation of which is "Friday with 
a squint." The other man's name literally translated 
meant "Go and shoot an elephant at three o'clock." 

^ * sH * * 

I remember an amusing incident when a new- 
comer, an inexperienced white man, was placed in 



154 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

charge of a number of Kroo Boys, engaged in the 
construction of a road at Old Vivi. The new-comer 
gave vague instructions, principally by gestures, for 
he was unfamiliar with the pidgen-English spoken 
by the Kroo Boys. It happened that a consignment 
of wheelbarrows had just arrived, and indicating 
these by a wave of his hand as the means by which 
the work could be accomplished, he forthwith retired 
to the shadow of a tree and went to sleep. 

Great was his astonishment on awakening, to find his 
Kroo Boys walking along solemnly in single file, each 
bearing upon his head sl wheelbarrow full of earth. 
* * * * * 

Kroo Boys do not make good soldiers. Once when 
there was some little difficulty with the natives and 
guns were fired, the Kroo Boy caravan incontinently 
bolted. They explained afterwards that they were 
not "War Boys." 

***** 

During an attack of illness, when lying on my camp 
bed in a native hut, I heard a great commotion. Soon 
a shadow appeared at the door and with great diffi- 
culty the Queen of the Village squeezed herself side- 
ways through the aperture, which was none too large. 

There was nothing particularly regal about her 
appearance, albeit that she was a Queen. Her only 
clothing was a grass fringe round her enormous 
waist, iron bracelets, and a pair of empty cartridge 



ODDITIES 155 

cases in her ears. She was quite abnormally stout, 
weighing probably upwards of three hundred pounds. 

Said she: "I have come to see you about a hippo- 
potamus!" 

"Sit down," said I, as politely as my knowledge 
of the native language permitted. 

Alongside my camp bed there was a wooden chop 
box which incidentally served me as a table, and 
this I indicated to her as a seat. She sat down awk- 
wardly. Rolls of fat enveloped the box and almost 
touched the ground. Unfortunately the box was not 
up to her weight and as the Queen warmed up to the 
subject of her grievance it suddenly emitted a loud, 
ominous crack. Already somewhat overwrought 
by excitement, she became instantly panic-stricken, 
dashed to the door, forgot to turn sideways, became 
jammed in the framework and in her struggles the 
entire structure of the hut was nearly carried away. 

Thus ended my brief acquaintance with the Queen. 
She carefully avoided meeting me again, and as I 
left the village soon afterwards, the story of the hippo- 
potamus remained for ever untold. 

* * * * * 

In the year 1885, as Chief of Bangala Station, I 
witnessed the recruitment of the first band of Ban- 
galas, who were to be sent down to headquarters at 
Boma, there to be disciplined and drilled, in order to 
test their suitability for military life. 



156 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

They were a wild-looking crowd of young savages, 
these members of a cannibal tribe. Several among 
them had only recently for the first time seen a 
white man. When they embarked on the river 
steam launch which was to conduct them down 
river, their bodies were covered with paint, and 
each man carried his spear and shield, for it is the 
custom of the tribe for a man always to be armed. 

A few months later I witnessed their return. They 
were mustered by a word of command and marched 
past the Station. It was hard indeed to believe that 
they were the same savage youths. They wore odd 
costumes, gaudy soldiers' coats and other cast-off 
European apparel. Some carried umbrellas under 
their arms, others carried bottles of salt water from 
the ocean, for Bangala is situated a thousand miles 
from the sea, and salt water was esteemed so much 
a curiosity that they brought back samples to aston- 
ish their people. 

One roguish-looking fellow smoking a clay pipe, 
attired in an old dress-coat, with cocked hat and a 
pair of much worn magenta-coloured riding-breeches, 
twirled a small cane in his fingers. Chirping up a 
mangy pariah dog that followed at his heels, he said 
jauntily, in English: "Come on, come on!" 

# * * * * 

In company with an Austrian cavalry officer, who 
by the way, bore the name of a famous European 



ODDITIES 157 

family, duty led me to the village of Ndunga. The 
subject of investigation related to the murder of two 
letter-carriers, and it was supposed that the crime 
was committed by members of this particular village. 

The interview with the Chief Ngudi N'Kama and 
his court was a picturesque function, and all went 
well for a time. At an unfortunate moment however, 
through a misunderstanding, a gun was accidentally 
fired. In a moment all was confusion. My com- 
panion yelled to me to catch the chief, whilst he 
occupied himself with making prisoners of as many 
people as he could capture. 

Having captured the chief, I was instructed to 
return with him to our camp. Leaving the village 
and wending our way along the tortuous native paths, 
guns were fired at us from all directions, the men 
being hidden in the high grass. 

Our path led us to a deep ravine where there was a 
fringe of wood, and a stream. It was uncommonly 
hot. Reaching the wood at the bottom of the hill 
we rested beside a water-hole. 

Ngudi N'Kama, whose hands were tied behind his 
back, stooped down to drink. Turning my back for 
a moment, to keep a look-out, for the angry people 
were lurking in the grass all around us, I found that 
Ngudi N'Kama had suddenly vanished. At first I 
stood perplexed; then I darted hither and thither, 
but found no trace of him. It suddenly occurred to 



158 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

me that he must have tumbled into the water-hole, 
and I was only just in time to save him from being 
drowned. 

^ 2$: % j£ % 

I once came upon a group of natives who were 
grumbling. Said the chief: "We are unhappy peo- 
ple! We have nothing left. Leopards have killed 
our goats, and our plantations have been trampled 
and ruined by elephants." 

"Yes," remarked a dismal-looking fellow, "it's a 
good thing for us that elephants don't hunt fish. If 
they did we should have nothing to eat at all." 

The chief of Lulungu once sent a very terse mes- 
sage to the captain of an upper river steamer saying 
that he and his people had robbed many things from 
the steamer during the night, that they now had 
shirts and trousers such as the White Man wore, 
but they had not succeeded in stealing any boots. 
If the White Man did not send boots by the time the 
sun was high, there would be war! 

It is the custom of the Bakongo natives to end a 
speech by saying "Wanga," a word signifying: "Do 
you understand?" 

A little African boy, brought up in the Mission, 
prayed that he might always have plenty to eat, that 
he might never have any work to do, and that he 



ODDITIES 159 

might have fine clothes to wear and when he grew 
up, that he might attain the social standing of the 
white man. Then said he at the end of his heart- 
spoken prayer: " Wanga Nzambi, Wanga ?" meaning: 
"Do you understand, God — Do you understand?" 
* * * * ^ 

In the course of conversation with a man named 
Luemba, living in the cataract region of the Lower 
Congo, he said: 

"I have worked for white men and have had much 
hardship. I have been flogged for making mistakes, 
I have had my pay stopped, and I have seen much 
trouble. Now I will worship God and live quietly 
by the side of the mission station listening to the 
missionary who says that it does not matter whether 
we be rich or poor, for rich and poor alike enjoy the 
same chances of going to heaven. What use is it 
for me to work ? No ! I will sleep. 

***** 

I well remember the occasion of the arrival of the 
first sewing machine on the Congo. As soon as it 
was set in motion the natives crowded round and 
commenced a rhythmical dance, parading round 
with prancing steps in a hollow circle, dancing, as 

they presumed, to a new kind of musical instrument. 

***** 

Mabruki, a Zanzibari lad, had served as cook's 
mate on an English ship and had picked up a 



160 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

smattering of the language, but he found difficulty 
in pronouncing the letter "r." Once when ques- 
tioned about the dinner, he replied: "Lice and loast 
meat." 

}(» >{C JjC 5jC 5(1 

At the mouth of Lomami River the people wear 
large circular pieces of ivory in their upper lips, 
which recalls Sequabo's remark to Dr. Living- 
stone, alluding to a Zambesi tribe who were simi- 
larly adorned: 

"These people want to make their mouths look 
like ducks." 

* * * * * 

In telling a person to be silent, the natives of 
Lukolela say: "Tie your mouth." 

"We do not want cloth," said the people of the 
Malinga River. " Give us something to wear. Give 
us beads!" 

***** 

An Arab one day asked me to explain the con- 
tents of a little tin which had been given to him 
by Wissman during his memorable voyage across 
Africa. 

I took pains to make him understand that the 
contents of the tin represented the essence of beef 
prepared in such a manner that the greatest amount 




rt * ^ 

o 2 "3 

O « «t 

ft 3 

°1 

ft «J 

g ■« 



ODDITIES 161 

of nourishment was concentrated in the smallest 
possible quantity. "You surprise me," said he, 
"because I was led to understand that it contained a 
salve, and in fact, I have used it in trying to heal 
my ulcerated leg!" 

* * jK * * 

I once noticed an alarm bell suspended over the 
entrance of a stockaded village. It was a very 
clumsy affair, and only an interloping elephant would 
have been likely to make it ring. 

A long neck is considered a point of beauty in 
women. I once heard two natives talking of a 
woman that one of them had recently purchased. 
Placing his hands one horizontally above the other, 
the proud purchaser signified by this gesture that her 
neck was equal in length to the width of his two 
hands. 

2jC 3(C ?JC 3JC 3fl 

Just before the decapitation of a slave, who was 
being sacrificed according to custom after the death 
of a chief, I observed a relative of the recently de- 
ceased chief engaged in serious conversation with 
the poor man, whose hands and feet were already 
bound, and who was just about to be executed. I 
ascertained that the victim was receiving a message 
which, after death, he was charged to convey to the 



162 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

spirit of the deceased chief. The conclusion of the 
message was somewhat as follows* 

" — And tell him when you meet, that his biggest 
war-canoe, which I inherit, is rotten.'" 

jj: •%. sfc % ^s 

In company with his son a man once visited me 
and made a long speech. My knowledge of the 
Kikongo language at that time was very slight, but 
my keenness was great and I followed the speech 
carefully in the hopes of detecting words which would 
supply a clue to his meaning. There were but two 
words, however, that seemed at all familiar to me: 
"sick" and "head." 

I naturally concluded that the man was suf- 
fering from headache and had come to me for 
medicine, my reputation as a dispenser of bitter 
draughts and drugs having spread in the surround- 
ing country. 

Preparing a somewhat powerful dose of Epsom 
salts, I handed the man the tin pannikin instruct- 
ing him by signs and gestures to drink, and that 
forthwith his head sickness would cease. He 
handed the tin to his little son, who eagerly put 
it to his lips. I expostulated with the man for 
passing his medicine to his son, explaining that it 
contained no mystic properties, and insisted upon 
his finishing it, which he did subsequently and 
against his will. 



ODDITIES 163 

The following day, in passing through the village, 
I recognised the same man lying in front of his hut, 
looking dejected. I expressed my surprise at seeing 
him in this condition, stating, as far as my linguistic 
powers permitted me, that I expected the medicine 
was sufficiently potent to have cured him. 

The man rose and shook his head sadly. "There 
was never anything the matter with me," he explained 
through an interpreter. "It was my son that was 
ill. You gave me the medicine, and I have been 
sick ever since." 

A touching incident illustrating the sentiment of 
gratitude followed my efforts to give relief to a suf- 
fering baby. Some months afterwards I was sur- 
prised in the middle of the night by seeing a dark 
shadow cast upon the entrance to my tent. A 
woman's voice, hushed in tone, said to me: 

"Here, O White Man, take this egg! Many 
moons ago my baby suffered. You gave it medicine 
and it is well. I am a poor woman ; I have nothing. 
But— Oh take this eggV 9 

Much touched by her words, I arose from my bed, 
accepted the egg, and placed it in one of my boots 
for safe-keeping. 

The following morning, whilst my caravan was 
getting ready for the day's march, I gave the egg to 
my cook, instructing him to poach it for my break- 



164 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

fast. A few minutes later he returned to me, holding 
in his hand a broken egg-shell, saying: 
"Master, that egg was a bad one!" 

Alfred Parminter, in order to impart a little spirit 
of civilisation into the wilderness, conceived an idea 
of having all his servants dressed alike. Laying a 
piece of Manchester cotton cloth on the ground, he 
placed a servant on it lying on his back, and with a 
charcoal stick from the fire he traced the boy's form 
upon the cloth, doubled it, and had the two portions 
sewn together! 

Armed with my .577 express rifle, I was hurrying 
towards a distant valley, where I had been informed 
there were elephants to be found. On my way I 
met a party of six or eight men, armed with flint- 
lock guns and amply provided with powder-flasks 
and wallets containing missiles. I was impressed by 
their warlike appearance. 

"Where are you going in such a hurry ?" said they. 

"After elephants/' I replied. "And you — where 
are you going?" 

"Oh, we are going to the valley below to shoot 
rats." 

***** 

Our Houssa soldiers, who were employed in the 
Congo Independent State, were recruited from the 



ODDITIES 165 

Niger country. Many of them had served on the 
West Coast under English officers. They were 
nearly all of them fine fellows, devoted and loyal, 
courageous and honest. They acted as a perfect 
"set-off" to the Zanzibaris, and they proved them- 
selves invaluable in maintaining order. The con- 
trast between this western race and the eastern 
African was remarkable. The Houssa was a silent, 
sturdy fellow, without the faculty of adapting him- 
self to the ways of others; he was slow to learn the 
Congo languages, and never fraternised with the 
natives. The Zanzibari, on the other hand, was gay 
and versatile; quick to learn new dialects, quick to 
ingratiate himself into the confidence of the natives, 
fickle perhaps in love-affairs, and generally indif- 
ferent to the future. 

One Christmas Day our Houssa sergeant-major 
came to offer his greetings, and suggestively informed 
us that in Houssaland at Christmas time they gen- 
erally ate beef "until their teeth ached" 



A VILLAGE ROMANCE 

It was the noon-day period of idleness in the prim- 
itive village home of the Bangala. Since early morn- 
ing the African sun had poured forth its fierce heat 
from an unclouded sky, and the air had grown so 
hot and oppressive that the savages stretched their 
naked bodies upon the dusty ground, beneath the 
eaves of their grass-thatched huts, where they lay 
motionless in attitudes of slumber. So great was 
the heat of the sun, that even the sun-birds and the 
butterflies had flown to the cool, shady foliage of the 
trees, and the heavy breathing of the sleepers was 
the only sound that broke the death-like silence of 
the village. 

From an adjacent clump of bushes, there suddenly 
emerged the lithe naked form of a young savage. 
His broad-bladed spear and metal ornaments glis- 
tened in the strong sunlight, and his feather head- 
dress fluttered as he stepped quickly forward to 
survey the sleeping figures of his tribesmen. 

Apparently failing in his quest, he subsequently 
approached a dilapidated hut, calling softly: 

"Balala! O! Balala!" 

166 



A VILLAGE ROMANCE 167 

Almost immediately a handsome, well-formed girl 
stepped forth from the dark interior. Approaching 
the young man with a glad smile of recognition, she 
said : 

"Makwata! Hey! You! Is it good or evil news?" 

"Balala, my pretty bird, I come to speak good 
words. Come! let us go where no listener can 
hear." 

Strolling away together, the lovers soon found 
themselves in a forest of stunted palms, well con- 
cealed from prying eyes and listening ears. For 
some moments the young man gazed upon the dusky 
beauty in silent admiration. 

"And what may be thy great good news, Mak- 
wata ?" inquired Balala, coyly, as she smoothed her 
braided hair and plucked a fresh green palm-leaf 
into tiny shreds. 

Throwing his spear aside, Makwata placed his 
hand upon her shoulder : 

"This morning, when the sun was high, I went 
far into the forest yonder in search of game. I went 
alone. As I picked my way through the thorny 
bushes, I heard a sound. I stepped forward with- 
out noise. In front of me stood an old bull elephant 
— an elephant with long, gleaming tusks. He was 
sleeping; his body rested against a monster ant-hill. 
As I looked upon those large shining tusks I thought 
of you, Balala. There, before me, were two ele- 



168 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

phant tusks large enough to buy you from your 
greedy father. Some good spirit must have led me 
to that spot. I gripped my spear, the same one 
that lies on the ground, and, with one plunge, I 
drove the whole blade into the elephant's shoulder, 
into the place that kills quickly. Then I darted 
aside, and watched the great elephant shake, stagger, 
fall and die." 

"What? It is dead? You killed the elephant? 
Oh, Makwata! Some good spirit was indeed with 
you this day. Brave Makwata! Good Makwata!" 
and Balala coiled her arms around her lover's neck, 
and gazed into his face with an expression of ad- 
miration and love. 

"But, Makwata, art thou sure that it would be a 
good bargain to pay my father two such valuable 
tusks of ivory for me ? Two large tusks would surely 
buy two, if not three, women stronger to work, with 
broader backs to carry burdens, than mine." 

"Your words are true, Balala, but to me you are 
worth more than all other women. Your saucy 
laugh, your happy heart, and your pretty face and 
figure, shall be mine. For many weary moons I have 
been poor — too poor to buy you. All that time I have 
lived in constant fear lest my enemy, Mueli, would 
take you. His eye has been upon you, and is he not a 
chieftain, and has he not many slaves and tusks of 
ivory? But now my fear is passed, for to-morrow, 




A Congo idyll 

From a bronze group by the Author 



A VILLAGE ROMANCE 169 

when the sun is still high, I will see thy father and 
pay his price. Then Balala, thou wilt be my wife." 

Balala clapped her hands like a delighted child. 

"This moon is now full. In fourteen days it will 
be gone. Think, Makwata! we can be wed on the 
day of the new moon. Do not all the great charm- 
doctors of our tribe say good fortune follows a new 
moon marriage?" 

"It is so. In fourteen days, nuni ami (my bird), 
we will eat from one dish. To-morrow I will com- 
mence to build a hut, and I will fish for you, and 
I will hunt for you, my Balala." 

"O Makwata! My heart beats for joy. See the 
tears of happiness in my eyes." 

Thus they continued to talk of their prospective 
happiness, until the sun was well past its zenith, 
and its rays shone slantwise through the palms, 
casting trellis-like shadows upon the ground. In 
the village a few naked boys bestirred themselves, 
and commenced to carry on a mimic warfare, with 
their miniature bows and reed arrows. As the 
lovers parted, a wounded dog ran yelping and howl- 
ing past them. Some mischievous boy had fired a 
well-aimed arrow into its skinny ribs. 

Makwata's elephant provided an ample feast of 
strong-flavoured meat for all, and throughout the 
afternoon the air reeked with the odour of cooking 
flesh, and echoed with shouts and careless laughter. 



170 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Full stomachs make happy hearts among these poor 
wild forest-dwellers of Central Africa. 

In the evening after the sun had set and when the 
fireflies commenced to sparkle like glittering dia- 
monds around the bushes in the village a monster 
wooden drum boomed forth an invitation to a night 
dance in celebration of the feast. 

Later on, hundreds of naked feet shuffled and 
stamped upon the ground, keeping time to the 
rhythm of a weird song, in which the rich bass voices 
of the men formed, as it were, an echo to the shrill 
falsetto chanting of the women. Rows of dark, 
naked bodies, glistening with perspiration, advanced 
and receded, with sinuous movements, amidst the 
luxuriant foliage of graceful palms and broad-leaved 
banana- trees. Above the sound of clanging and jin- 
gling metal ornaments, treble-toned drums of goat- 
skin rattled in unison with the booming of huge 
hollow log drums, the deep, full sound of which 
filled the clear night air with reverberation. 

The lightest-hearted dancer in all the gathering 
of childish-minded revellers was Balala, the proud 
and happy favourite of Makwata. From time to 
time she glanced upwards at the waning moon, and 
thought how wearily the time passed. 

Makwata, the hero of the hour, was absent that 
night in the great dark forest, guarding the precious 
tusks of ivory, which, at sunrise, were to purchase 




Bust of Bakongo girl (Musee de Luxembourg, Paris) 
From a bronze by the Author 



A VILLAGE ROMANCE 171 

Balala from her father. Makwata too glanced 
sometimes at the moon, which shone faintly through 
the foliage overhead, and he pictured to himself 
the lithe and supple form of his young favourite 
pirouetting and prancing as the leader of the dance. 
His savage heart was softened by the influence of 
love. 

During the next two weeks the waning moon 
passed gradually away; and Makwata, who had 
satisfactorily concluded his bargain with Balala's 
father, and who had been busy building a hut with 
bundles of tall reeds and plaited palm fronds, now 
gazed contentedly upon his future home, which was 
completed even to the three-stoned hearth upon 
which the family cooking-pot was to rest above the 
burning logs. 

At last the long-looked-for day of the new moon 
arrived, and as it was dull and showery Makwata 
decided to take advantage of the auspicious condition 
of the weather to spend the morning in fishing, in 
order that his larder might be abundantly stocked 
for his wedding supper. 

Balala, even more blithe and gay than usual, spent 
the morning with her female relatives, who in the 
intervals of gossip, dressed and plaited her crisp, 
woolly hair into becoming braids, using as a comb a 
long iron skewer, and greasing the points with red 
palm oil. 



172 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Returning at mid-day from his fishing excursion, 
Makwata made his canoe fast to the overhanging 
branch of a tree, and stepped ashore with a basket 
well filled with squirming eels and fresh-caught 
fish. His heart was light and his spirits were high 
for that day at sunset Balala was to share his hut. 
As he passed through the narrow dirty streets of the 
village, and glanced at the crowds of cruel coarse- 
featured women, he knew that there was not in all his 
tribe a brighter prettier girl than Balala. 

"Hist! hist! Makwata," cried a withered old 
woman, who lay upon a heap of rotting grass by 
the wayside. "Makwata! I am sick and hungry. 
See these feeble arms, and look upon my mis- 
erable face. I am a slave but give me food Mak- 
wata." 

Makwata threw a glistening fish upon the ground 
beside her and hurried on. 

Shortly past noon the village was aroused by a 
strong man's angry voice. With curses and shouts 
of fury, Makwata dashed from street to street, 
with poised spear. His limbs shook and his voice 
was inarticulate with rage. 

Balala had disappeared. 

Some evil had befallen the bride upon her wed- 
ding-day. 

Makwata, instantly suspecting foul play, had set 
off in search of his bitter enemy and rival, Mueli. 



A VILLAGE ROMANCE 173 

From hut to hut he rushed in a state of frenzy. 
His hoarse voice and angry features caused great 
alarm among the women, who rushed away shriek- 
ing, with their children in their arms. The men 
quietly collected their knives and spears, in an- 
ticipation of trouble. 

The search was in vain. Mueli had also van- 
ished. 

With a groan of anguish Makwata threw himself 
upon the ground, at the foot of a giant cotton-tree, 
some little distance from the village, and ground his 
teeth. While he lay in an agony of despair, the old 
withered hag, to whom he had given fish, appeared 
from the bushes and silently approached him. 

"Makwata!" 

Makwata, startled by her voice, sprang to his 
feet and scowled angrily. 

In a mysterious tone she said "Listen to my 
words before you look so wrathfully upon me. 
Your heart is sad, for evil has been done to you. 
Makwata, I know where Mueli hides ; I followed him. 
It is with him you will find Balala." 

"Where are they? Speak quickly, woman, for 
my blood boils." 

"Take thy strongest spear, Makwata, and go 
straight into the forest yonder, in a direction towards 
the setting sun. There is no path. Go straight 
and thou wilt find them. Settle thy quarrel with 



174 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Mueli then. He is an evil-hearted enemy to us 
both." 

Without a word Makwata dashed into the gloomy 
forest with his keen-edged knife and spear. The 
old woman watched him disappear, as, in a chuck- 
ling tone, she mumbled to herself as she turned 
away towards the bushes: "Have I not paid thee 
well for thy fish, Makwata ? May thy arm be 
strong." 

Far away in the forest, amidst enormous trees 
and a perfect labyrinth of vines and creepers, upon 
the bank of a stream stood Mueli, calmly watching 
the contortions of a young girl, who lay writhing 
upon the ground with her limbs firmly bound by 
twisted creepers. 

There was a cruel, brutal expression upon his 
face as he said, sneeringly: 

"Thy bonds are strong, and thy cries are useless 
here. Listen now. To-night I leave thee here for 
I am going to the village to take Makwata's life. 
To-morrow I return, and you will then be one of the 
wives of Mueli, the Bangala chieftain." 

Balala writhed and shrieked until the woods 
echoed with her cries. 

"OMama! Hey Makwata! Hey!" 

A twig snapped, a leafy branch was thrust aside, 
and Makwata bounded forward. When within a 
few paces of Mueli he hurled his spear with furi- 




ci 








c3 


3 


bJD ^ 


C 




pq 






=s 




pO 


« 




b£ 


8 


^ 






Q 






> 


-cS 


<U 


-- 


"S 


s 


£ 






a. 



A VILLAGE ROMANCE 175 

ous strength, but in so doing he caught his foot in 
a creeper and almost fell. At the same instant 
his blood was chilled by a piercing scream from 
Balala. 

Makwata's aim had been diverted by his fall, and, 
instead of striking Mueli, the blade had pierced 
Balala's body. 

Thoroughly maddened with fury, he clutched the 
handle of his sickle-bladed knife and rushed upon 
Mueli, who, however, deftly turned the blow with 
the haft of his spear. Makwata's next blow was 
not so easily parried. With a sickening thud his 
knife struck deep into his opponent's skull. Mueli 
dropped instantly to the ground, and his lifeless 
body rolled down the bank towards the stream. 

Seizing Balala in his arms, Makwata found that 
consciousness had left her. 

Her life's blood was ebbing fast away from the 
wound of her unhappy lover's spear. 

Though almost paralysed with grief, Makwata 
cut her bonds and tried his best to staunch the 
blood with cold water from the stream and with 
broad leaves. 

At length her large, soft eyes opened. Looking 
into Makwata's face with a sad smile, she murmured 
faintly : 

"Evil spirits, Makwata! It is all the doing of 
evil spirits." 



176 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Makwata groaned in utter despair. With an 
effort Balala raised her hand and pointed to an 
opening in the foliage overhead. 

"O Makwata! Look up at the sky. What 
dost thou see ? Is it not our new moon ?" 

Her arm dropped, her eyes closed, and with a 
quivering sigh she died. 



STANLEY 

There were two Stanleys: Stanley the African 
traveller, and Stanley himself. I claim to have 
known only Stanley the African traveller. I first 
met him in the year 1884, the year I entered Africa 
under his auspices. 

Personally, he impressed me as being a man whose 
life had been embittered, and he appeared to take it 
as an accepted fact that every man's hand was 
against him. 

During a conversation with him in Africa, I was 
emboldened to say to him: 

"They say that you are hard, Mr. Stanley." 

"Hard!" he replied shortly. "You've got to be 
hard. If you're not hard, you're weak. There are 
only two sides to it!" 

Stanley was essentially a strong man, begotten in 
no ordinary spirit. He possessed a power of deter- 
mination and disregard of consequences which was 
remarkable. 

It is difficult to conceive that any man but Stanley 
could have successfully accomplished the explora- 

177 



178 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

tions which are stamped with his name. His in- 
domitable will carried him forward, his sturdy 
physique resisted disease, his astute diplomacy con- 
verted enemies into friends, and his good luck 
remained with him throughout. 

Stanley's character certainly bore the impress of 
his African life. His long experience of African 
human nature had perhaps revealed to him too 
much of the weak side of life; in consequence of this 
he had grown to be distrustful and to hold perhaps 
too poor an estimate of mankind in general. 

His speech was often coloured by idiomatic 
phrases, suggesting the flowery speech of Africans. 
His methods were those of a man who held himself 
instinctively superior to all around him. During 
long years his Zanzibari followers had proclaimed 
him "Great Master," and had approached him 
reverently as "Father." 

An indispensable element in dealing with Africans 
is power, and that quality was clearly stamped, not 
upon his face alone, but upon his entire personality. 
He was unsparing in his criticisms of men and their 
actions; but for the most part he confined his judg- 
ments to subjects which were well within the scope 
of his own experience and observation. 

He always sought to be just, according to his lights. 

The world at large recognised Stanley's greatness 
as an explorer. Volumes containing the narration 



STANLEY 179 

of his exploits and achievements are to be found on 
every bookshelf. But after all, what a difference 
there is between the bare written account of work 
done — with its cold record of dates and names of 
places— and actuality. 

After the finding of Dr. Livingstone in 1871, Stanley 
returned again to Africa in 1874 to solve the problem 
of the Lualaba River — a problem that had absorbed 
the attention and fired the ambition of Dr. Living- 
stone for some years previous to his death. Proceeding 
inland from Zanzibar, Stanley navigated Lake Albert 
Nyanza, and subsequently circumnavigated Tangan- 
yika Lake. From Ujiji, on Lake Tanganyika, he 
proceeded to Nyangwe, the Arab slavers' centre, situ- 
ated on the mysterious Lualaba River. Embarking 
his party in native canoes, he traced the river, by de- 
scending it, for a distance of over two thousand miles, 
and thus identified the Lualaba with the Congo. 

The entire journey, lasting 999 days, was fraught 
with great privation and suffering and great loss of 
life, including that of his three white companions, 
one of whom, Frank Pocock, lost his life by drown- 
ing when within about ten days' direct march of the 
Atlantic coast. 

By accomplishing this bold and brilliant journey, 
Stanley at once culled the brightest remaining jewel 
from the crown of African hidden mysteries. To 
have successfully traversed for the first time in the 



180 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

world's history two thousand miles of the Congo 
River's course, and to have solved for ever the prob- 
lem which had occupied the minds of all geogra- 
phers since the discovery of the mouth of the Congo 
River by Diego Cam in 1482 was to fulfil indeed 
a great purpose. 

After a brief rest, Stanley returned once more to 
the scene of his African work, and under the patron- 
age of Leopold II., King of the Belgians, he assisted 
in founding the Congo Independent State, a vast 
territory comprising an area of 900,000 square miles, 
with an estimated native population of from 20,000,- 
000 to 30,000,000. 

In the year 1886 Stanley entered Africa for the 
fourth and last time as an explorer, in command of 
the Emm Pacha Relief Expedition. This expedition 
was organised for the purpose of relieving Emin 
Pacha, the Governor of Equatorial Africa, whose 
condition was known to have become precarious. 
Stanley fulfilled this mission, but only after experi- 
encing the most severe hardships endured in any of 
his explorations, and with the loss of over 400 out 
of the 650 men he had taken with him. 

Nine English officers were engaged; at the time 
of writing there remain but two survivors, Mr. John 
Rose Troup and myself. 1 

1 "My Life with Stanley's Rear Guard." By Herbert Ward. Chatto & 
Windus. 




C S 



STANLEY 181 

Nearly three years were occupied in the journey. 
Among the important geographical results of the 
expedition was the discovery of Mount Rowenzori, 
estimated to be 17,000 feet high; of Lake Albert 
Edward, and of the south-west extension of Lake 
Victoria. Lake Albert Edward proved to be the 
primary source of the White Nile, and it was shown 
that its waters connect through the Semliki with the 
Albert Nyanza. 

*p 5j* 3|C *J* *fi 

On the way up-country with the Emin Pacha 
Expedition, a halt was made at Stanley Pool. The 
native chiefs had every reason to complain of the 
depredations made by Stanley's black personnel. 

One chief, bolder than the rest, approached Stan- 
ley, complaining bitterly of the manner in which 
his plantations had been robbed, and of the way in 
which the domestic harmony of his village had been 
disturbed. 

At first the chief retained his dignity, and I was 
much impressed by his natural grace, and by his 
eloquence. 

Stanley, sitting on a camp-stool, listened calmly 
as the interpreter repeated the chief's complaint, 
all the while fixing his keen grey eyes on the face 
of the chief. So keen was the glance, and so pow- 
erfully hypnotic, that the chief soon became very 
uneasy. 



182 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Stanley gave instructions to a bugler to call up all 
hands. Then, in company with the chief, he strolled 
leisurely past the six or seven hundred men who had 
fallen in line, saying at intervals to the chief: "Was 
it this man, O Chief, who robbed you ? — or this ? 
Is this the man that caused unhappiness in your 
homes ?" 

Utterly disconcerted, the chief shook his head 
sadly, and muttered: 

"These men all look alike. I know not which 
are the robbers." 

Addressing him in a benevolent tone of voice, 
through an interpreter, Stanley placed his hand on 
the chief's shoulder, and said significantly: 

"The next time your peace is disturbed, O Chief, 
place a mark upon the man — mark him! Then 
when we collect our men and when we look all along 
the line, we shall be able at once to distinguish the 
culprit!" 

5|C 5JC 5fC *f* *F 

In order to pacify the Arabs, who would otherwise 
have interfered with Stanley's intention of following 
the Congo route on his expedition for the relief of 
Emin Pacha, Stanley entered into a treaty with 
Tippo Tib, at Zanzibar, appointing him Governor 
of Stanley Falls. 

In answer to a remark questioning the wisdom of 
trusting such a renowned bloodthirsty slave-raider 



STANLEY 183 

as Tippo Tib, he replied, with his usual calm, im- 
movable expression: 

"You know that there is more joy in heaven over 
one sinner that repenteth " 

Embarking on board the Mission steamer Peace at 
Stanley Pool, bound up river, I had the interesting 
experience of being alone with Stanley as far as 
Bolobo, on the Upper Congo. At the very outset 
of our journey there occurred an accident which 
might have been fatal to us all. 

We had not been under way many minutes, when 
our tiller was carried away under the strain of the 
very swift current against which we were steering. 
For a short time things looked very black indeed. 
Our steering gear was useless, and to make matters 
worse we were being carried by the current straight 
towards a rocky island. The anchors were let go 
immediately, but for a while they proved useless. 
Suddenly they caught and the little steamer heeled 
over and almost capsized. 

The moment was one of grave danger, but strangely 
enough, not of undue excitement. Stanley, at the 
bow, with eye strained to catch the effect of our sud- 
den stoppage, cried: "Look out!" in a way which 
impressed all hands. The trembling blacks watched 
and waited, but moved not; and after some little 
time we succeeded, though with great difficulty, in 



184 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

getting our little vessel from its perilous position. 
By the alternate working of our twin screws we 
made sufficient headway to enable us to reach a 
station about half a mile from the point where our 
accident had happened. Here the remainder of that 
day and a portion of the next were occupied in re- 
pairing the damage done. 

That same evening, in spite of our mishap, Stan- 
ley was in excellent spirits, and he related with much 
dramatic power several incidents of his African ex- 
periences. I recall his story of Baruti, a boy hailing 
from Basoko. Of a cannibal tribe, he was be- 
friended by Stanley who took him to Europe and 
employed him as a page. The savage instinct was 
ineradicable, and in spite of kindly treatment he re- 
tained many of the lower characteristics of his race. 
It appears that one evening in London, during Stan- 
ley's absence, Baruti endeavoured to persuade the 
housekeeper to give him a certain choice dish from the 
larder. This being refused, Baruti became violent 
in his manner, and seizing the housekeeper's baby he 
dashed up stairs. Upon reaching the top landing 
Baruti held the baby over the balusters and threat- 
ened to let it fall unless his demand was granted. 

Ascending the Congo with Stanley on the Mission 
steamer, a work of vital importance was the cutting 




G 

V 

X 



a 
as 

Ph 

d 

's 
w 

& 

c 
o 

<U 
Oh 
Oh 
P 

H-> 

d 
o 



STANLEY 185 

of wood to provide fuel for the engines, an operation 
which necessitated working far into the night. On 
certain occasions in fact, entire nights were passed 
hewing wood in the forest and cutting it in lengths 
to fit the furnace. 

Once, during a spell of bad weather, we had a 
particularly busy time, and for two days and two 
nights consecutively I had but little chance of rest. 
Contrary to my habit, I passed two days without 
shaving. At the conclusion of a conversation with 
Stanley, he glanced at my chin and said: 

"Dr. Livingstone, you know, used to shave every 
morning." 

Stanley once called his Zanzibaris to turn out at 
early dawn. Being thoroughly tired out, there were 
but a few who responded to his call. Stanley then 
shouted out in Kiswahili: 

"Will you follow me to death?" And he was 
immediately answered by shouts of: 

"Ewallah bwana!" ("Yes, yes! we will, mas- 
ter!") 

H« * * * >H 

I well remember one evening we spent together on 
the little missionary steamer, Peace. All was calm 
ashore. Our followers were grouped around their 
fires. The night sky was clear, and an air of tran- 
quillity reigned throughout. 



186 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Stanley sat on the hatchway, cross-legged, a usual 
and characteristic attitude of his. The other two 
members of the party were missionaries — Mr. Darby, 
and another missionary, who acted as engineer. 

The entire evening was spent discussing the Bible. 
The Missionaries and Stanley appeared to be in per- 
fect accord, and I spent a most interesting evening 
listening to their theological discussions. 

As we were retiring for the night Stanley caused 
some surprise by remarking unexpectedly: 

"There is just one of the miracles that I was never 
able to take literally: it was that one about the fall 
of the walls of Jericho, when the Angel Gabriel blew 
a trumpet." 

***** 

I clearly recall the afternoons spent on board the 
Peace, seated alongside Stanley in the bow of the 
Mission steamer, forging ahead slowly against the 
current, past wooded shores and islands. A hot 
sun, a blinding glare upon the water; the smell of 
castor-oil used for machinery; the powerful pungent 
smell of the crowd of perspiring men packed closely 
together; the noise of the propeller lashing the water, 
and the incessant mumble of men's voices. 

Stanley often questioned me at length about North 
Borneo, where I had travelled for a year alone, in the 
far interior; he seemed interested in comparing the 
relative physical prospects of the two countries, being 



STANLEY 187 

careful to omit no favourable feature which might 
count to the advantage of Central Africa, the country 
with which he was so essentially identified. 

At Bolobo a temporary encampment was formed, 
being left in my charge. Here Stanley had an inter- 
view with the principal of the native chiefs. 

Stanley seated as usual upon his camp-stool, with 
folded arms, watched the approaching figure of the 
chief. He was a fine-looking fellow, this chief, be- 
decked with native finery, and carrying a spear in his 
right hand, and a long, narrow shield in his left. 
He swaggered up in front of Stanley with his head 
erect, his shoulders well set back. With a majestic 
gesture he lifted his spear and plunged it in the 
ground, and cast his shield beside it. 

He commenced his speech alone, but presently 
continued through the medium of an interpreter. 
The object of his speech was in the nature of a pro- 
test against the white man's camp being formed in 
such close proximity to his village. 

All this time Stanley sat motionless, gazing into 
the chief's face without uttering a word. 

By degrees the chief's bearing changed. His 
figure seemed to shrink. In vain he gazed to the 
right and to the left, but the powerful gaze of 
Stanley's keen blue eyes was too strong an influence 
for him. 



188 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Ignominiously he gathered up his shield, and 
plucking his spear from the ground, he trailed it 
after him as he retired. 

I noticed a peculiar smile on Stanley's face as the 
incident closed. 



Once when talking with Stanley about native 
character, I casually alluded to the extraordinary 
mystery that our sudden arrival must have caused. 
I tried to picture the impression we made upon the 
natives with our great number of Zanzibaris, Sou- 
danese, and Arabs. Stanley remarked somewhat 
impatiently : 

"My dear fellow, in this world we can't stop to 
think about the impressions we create. No time for 
that sort of thing." 



When leaving me in charge of the Bolobo camp, 
Stanley shook hands with me warmly, and said: 

"Well, Ward, look after your men. Don't rush 
into any fighting. Keep peaceful. But, mind you, 
if you have to fight — fight! Good-bye, and God 
bless you." 

***** 

Transporting Stanley's boxes down country, there 
was one large box slung on a pole which required 




£3 o 






cfi 



IS 



STANLEY 189 

two carriers. This particular box caused me endless 
trouble in the villages I passed through. 

It is not etiquette among Africans to ask a visitor 
his business, or the object of his visit. However, on 
this occasion their curiosity proved too strong, and 
they departed from their rule. There was a general 
opinion that this box contained a corpse. On one or 
two occasions we were, in fact, on the verge of 
serious trouble, for attempts were made to stop my 
progress in certain villages. The natives refused 
to sell me food, or to allow me to camp near them. 
I assured them that the box did not contain any- 
thing like a corpse. "Well, show us the inside," 
said they. The box was locked, and I had no 
key. I was therefore unable to prove the truth 
of what I said. "Then go back! Leave our coun- 
try! We will not allow you to pass by here," they 
answered. 

***** 

In reply to a complaint concerning the lack of 
proper food that was made by a band of his com- 
panions, in the early days of the formation of the 
Congo Independent State, Mr. Stanley calmly re- 
plied : 

"I am very sorry, gentlemen; but the goats have 
been very bony lately." 

On a similar occasion the same complaint of lack 
of provisions was made by a delegation of Accra 



190 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

clerks at headquarters. After listening attentively, 
Mr. Stanley said gravely: "Let us pray." 

***** 

At Ingham's Missionary Station, Stanley was at- 
tracted by a bright little native boy, and patting him 
on the head said he: 

"I should not be surprised, Ingham, if this little 
fellow becomes a bishop." 

"I don't know," said Ingham, "he is sometimes 
very disagreeable." 

"A sure sign he will be a bishop," replied Stanley. 
***** 

Sport, in the form of shooting big game, seems to 
have had no attraction for Stanley. 

During a conversation with Glave, on the subject 
of sport, Stanley remarked: 

"Now supposing there was at the present time an 
elephant near by, I should remain here in comfort 
and safety, and should say: "Glave, there's an ele- 
phant; why don't you take your rifle and go and 
shoot him ? " 

***** 

During building operations in Vivi, Dr. Rolf Leslie, 
the principal medical officer of the staff, turned his 
hand to carpentering. As Stanley passed by, Leslie 
said: 

"You see, Mr. Stanley, I am a bit of a carpenter." 



STANLEY 191 

f 'Yes," replied Stanley, "our Saviour was once a 
carpenter." 

* 5fl * * * 

Stanley derived his African nickname, "Bula Ma- 
tadi" at Issanghila in the year 1881. At this date 
Stanley was engaged in transporting a small steam 
launch overland in sections, and it became necessary 
to employ charges of dynamite at certain places to 
blast obstructive rocks. The chief of a small village 
at the back of Issanghila related to me 1 the following 
incident which may be accepted as bearing directly 
upon the origin of this famous name. Said he: 

"It was long ago. A small boy ran toward us; 
he said: 'That strange white man yonder is breaking 
the stones.'" 

The native mind was greatly impressed by the 
idea that man should attempt to interfere with exist- 
ing nature. The native's mind accepted things as 
they were. If a tree fell across their path, they 
walked around it: Nature caused it to fall, they 
reasoned, and it was not for them to interfere. 

The correct spelling of the name is "Bula Ma- 
tadi" — from Bula — to break; Matadi, stones (singu- 
lar Ntadi, a stone). 2 In the interior of Africa and 
among the Zanzibaris the letter "r" is frequently 
substituted for "d," a peculiarity which accounts for 

1 Issanghila, 1884. * Kikongo language. 



192 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

the difference of spelling Bula Matari, instead of the 
original form of Bula Matadi. 



Stanley died six years ago. 1 When I attended his 
funeral service in Westminster Abbey, my feelings 
corresponded with those of the Congo Africans, for 
I knew the natives would say: 

"It is not true; Bula Matadi is not dead." 

* May 10, 1904. 



THE WORDS OF ULEDI PAGANI 

Among the Zanzibaris of the Emin expedition who 
were left behind at Yambuya on account of sickness 
and incapacity were many men who had spent their 
lives tramping through unknown parts of Africa. 
In spite of a sufficiently intimate knowledge of the 
Kiswahili language, I found great difficulty in ob- 
taining any interesting information from them. 
Being for the most part slaves, their duty had been to 
carry and to follow. Although endowed with a cer- 
tain intelligence and quick wits, they were not good 
observers, and the narratives they related contained 
monotonous reiteration of how they had "seen 
trouble" — alluding to the privations and maladies 
they had encountered on their long journeys. 

One bright exception however was Uledi Pagani. 

He was a mild-looking old man — old, not in the 
sense of years, but in appearance; for his past life 
had been a hard one and he bore traces of having 
suffered. His health was bad, and in spite of kindly 
treatment he grew weaker and thinner as the days 
passed by. 

193 



194 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

As a result of the many hours I passed sitting beside 
him in a quiet corner of our camp, I gathered to- 
gether the following interesting summary of his life. 
He spoke frankly and simply, but he volunteered 
little, although ever ready to reply to any question 
put to him. For his sincerity and truthfulness I 
entertain not the slightest doubt; for this poor, 
weather-beaten wanderer, whose back was bent with 
toil, and whose body bore traces of many wounds 
and sores, had passed the period when younger and 
less experienced men would be tempted to occa- 
sionally elaborate or exaggerate their facts. 

The words of Uledi Pagani are written down as he 
uttered them, translated literally, without amplifica- 
tion or alteration. 

During the early years of his life he made several 
journeys to Masai-land with his Arab owner Bwana 
Wadoud, who traded for ivory with merchandise 
advanced by a Banyan. Upon Stanley's arrival in 
Zanzibar in 1871, Uledi engaged himself as a petty 
chief, and accompanied Stanley in his search for 
Livingstone, and he was present at the meeting in 
Ujiji. He remained with Livingstone after Stan- 
ley's return, and accompanied Livingstone about the 
country until his death. 

"Dr. Livingstone was an old man?" 

"Ah, yes, very old; he had no teeth, but they 
boiled his meat soft." 



THE WORDS OF ULEDI PAGANI 195 

"What did Dr. Livingstone say to you all when 
you arrived with Stanley at Ujiji ?" 

"He said: 'I am very happy you have brought me 
my child.' Ah, he was a good old man and we 
called him 'Bwana Makubwa.' Stanley told us he 
was a great man." 

"Did Dr. Livingstone write much and make pic- 
tures of the people?" 

"Yes, he had a box on three sticks which he 
put his head in and covered himself with a red 
cloth." 

"Did the people all like him?" 

"Oh, master, they loved him very much." 

"Tell me about his death." 

"Well! the Bwana Makubwa was sick about six 
days in a hut in the middle of the village Kataui, on 
the shores of the Lake Bemba. He used to put his 
hand on his chest and say that there the pain was. 
He died at sundown, but just before that he gave 
us some papers and told us to take them to the 
consul at Zanzibar, and also his big dog. When he 
was dead we all cried, and the natives also. The 
chief was blood-brother of the Bwana Makubwa. 
We disembowelled his body and dried it in the sun 
for twenty-two days; we then rolled it in blankets, 
put it into the bark shell of a small tree, and then 
sixty-five of us, under our Munipara Muimi Hasali, 
carried it to the coast." 



196 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

"Why did you take all this trouble over the body ?" 

"Because we were afraid that the people in Zan- 
zibar would say we had neglected him, and he had 
been killed, or that perhaps we ourselves should 
have been accused of murder. But the people were 
pleased in Zanzibar that we had brought the body, 
and they sent it home in a ship, and afterwards we 
had rings given us with our names on them." 

"What were the names of the two men who saved 
the Doctor from being torn to pieces by the lion?" 

"Wadi Mozera and Muini Hasali." 

Uledi Pagani then enlisted with an Englishman 
whose name unfortunately he forgets, but whose 
nick-name among his men was Kandenga, and went 
to Uganda. 

After his return from this journey he enlisted with 
ten French priests, and accompanied them to Ujiji. 
One died on the road to Ngogo and four went on to 
Uganda with Muini Pemba. 

Again returning, he took engagement with Captain 
Carter, nicknamed by his men Paperone [one who is 
extravagant with his goods], and went elephant catch- 
ing. 1 Upon this business being concluded, he re- 
mained in Zanzibar, earning a precarious living, as 
a salesman of garden produce in the market, until 
Stanley returned to form his expedition for the ex- 

1 Captain Carter, with two tame Indian elephants, entered Africa from 
Zanzibar on behalf of the King of the Belgians, in an attempt to capture 
and to tame African elephants. The expedition came to grief. 



THE WORDS OF ULEDI PAGANI 197 

ploring the lakes and the Lualaba River. He 
then went on to relate how the young Englishmen, 
Barker and Edward and Frank Pocock, died. The 
journey from Nyanda to the Mute Ngige Lake and 
the explorations of Tanganyika and subsequent 
journey to Nganwe, of the compact with Tippo Tib 
and the descent of the Lualaba River. 

I asked him: "You saw plenty of fighting with 
natives?" 

"Oh, yes, plenty of trouble; we killed many, many 



men." 



" Where were you when Frank Pocock was drowned 
at Zinga on the Lower Congo ?" 

"I was there and saw the canoe capsized." 
Upon being asked to relate all he knew, he said : 
"Frank Pocock, known to us as Mabuiki, because 
he was our friend and would often eat from the same 
pot with us, was above some bad water with a few 
of us who were to wait until Stanley sent word to us 
— he was a short distance ahead — he had gone to see 
the natives. 

"Uledi and his boatmen came to take down a 
canoe, and Pocock said he would also go in the canoe, 
for said he : ' How can I wait with no food ? It is 
nearly sunset and I have had nothing to eat to-day.' 
Uledi told him it was not possible to pass the bad 
water with him in the canoe, but he would not get 
out. 



198 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

"Soon after we started the canoe capsized. Sab- 
uri ran up to Stanley and told him. And soon 
after I came up. Stanley was angry with us, and 
used loud words and said: 'Why did you let him 
get into the canoe ? ' 

" But what could we do ? He was our master and 
would have flogged us had we tried to prevent him 
forcibly. 

"After Pocock's death at Zinga all the men became 
low-spirited and miserable ; for three days they wailed 
aloud with grief at the loss of 'Mabuiki,' their 
'Bwana mdogo' (little master), to whom they had 
become very much attached. Stanley grew angry 
with them for their weakness, and said: 'Was he 
your father? No, I am your father; and would he 
have paid you your money in Zanzibar ? No ! I am 
the man you must rely on for your money, and now 
let us have no more crying like women.' 

"Shortly after this we were all starving, and the 
beads we had would not buy food, so we tried to 
steal manioc from the plantations. Some of us got 
shot, and four or five were caught and kept by the 
natives at Manyanga, and some place opposite 
Ndunga." 

"I suppose you were glad when you reached the 
coast?" 

"Yes, yes, indeed, master. There we had fine 
food and cloth to cover our bodies (for we were 



THE WORDS OF ULEDI PAGANI 199 

naked), and wine and all things like the " Wasungu" 
(Europeans.) At Cape Town we had plenty of 
things given us, and when we got home to Nguja 
we all cried, because we had given up all hope 
while going down the cataract region of the Congo 
River. 

"But then, we soon spent our money and had to 
look about for work again. When I first returned 
to Zanzibar, I made up my mind I would not travel 
any more, but when Stanley came again to get men 
to go to the Congo to make stations, I touched the 
pen and went back again. We had hard work 
getting the whale-boat and the Royal up to Stan- 
ley Pool. 

"I was at Manyanga when Stanley was so ill and 
it was there in the big market that I saw Salimini 
Rada, one of the men who was caught for stealing 
manioc when we were starving. He gave me a 
present of some big kwangas, fish, and peanuts, and 
told me that he was very happy, that he had a wife 
and child, and did not want to return to Zanzibar, 
so he always kept away from us, lest any one should 
catch him and send him home. I know his wife 
and two children in Zanzibar. 

"After serving three years on the Congo I went 
home, bought three slaves with my money, but I 
could not rest, so I went with a Jesuit Father to 
Tabora, Nyanyembe, and made a few other little 



200 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

journeys until Stanley once more came to Zanzibar 
to recruit men for this present expedition. . . ." 

Surely the travels of Uledi Pagani were unique. 
Many volumes have been written upon the subjects so 
briefly alluded to by Uledi. Poor fellow! A hard 
fate indeed for such a man to die from starvation. 



THE IMPRESSIONS OF BULELU 

When my Congo friend Alfred Parminter returned 
from Africa, he brought with him a young man 
named Bulelu, a member of the cannibal tribe of the 
Bangala. 

Favoured as I was by a knowledge of the native 
language spoken in his country — for I had myself 
passed a considerable time there — I took great inter- 
est in observing the impressions produced upon him 
by the extraordinary change in his surroundings. I 
took pains to note his replies to my questions, and I 
endeavoured as nearly as possible to record his say- 
ings in his own idiom. 

"Do I like this country? It is a good country. 
There are many good things to eat. There are no 
animals with evil hearts to kill you." 

"What things have most surprised you in our 
country, Bulelu?" 

"All things. Lo! How many white men live! 
How silent they are! With us, we all speak and 
make sounds; here men walk with their mouths tied! 
The big houses make me stupid. The wide paths of 
the city, with the horses and the carts, make my head 

201 



202 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

tired. There are so many things to see that my eyes 
become sleepy. All is good here. I know nothing 
bad; but — I am all alone, and I feel lost and sad." 

Bulelu relapsed into silence, squatted upon his 
heels, and watched the flies circling in a sunbeam. 

From long association with his kinsmen in Africa, 
I was enabled to observe a certain shyness in Bulelu's 
manner, which contrasted strangely with the natural 
self-confidence which is characteristic of his race. 
Apparently, he had grown to comprehend the wide 
distinction between the lives of the civilised and the 
lives of the barbarians, and the realisation of his own 
inferiority had filled him with a sense of shame. 

Gazing at the African weapons which adorned my 
walls, Bulelu flicked his fingers and said excitedly: 

"Koi-ye! See, there hangs ngura, na likongo — 
our knives and our spears. Look! O White Man, 
there are spots of blood upon that shield. It is surely 
the blood of my own people. Ekh! my heart wants 
my home." 

"These weapons are like friends of yours, Bulelu. 
Is it not so ? They awaken in your mind the recol- 
lections of your life at Bangala. Yours is a wild 
country, Bulelu. Can you tell me some of the inci- 
dents that happened in your villages before you knew 
of white men ?" 

"That was many moons ago. I was only so high," 
and Bulelu indicated two feet from the ground, 




c 

O g 

c- ~ 

^ £■■ 

> 3 

"ti '- 



0) ~ 

13 2> 



THE IMPRESSIONS OF BULELU 203 

"when Bula Matadi passed down the great river. 1 
I was small, but I heard his guns. He fought my 
people, and killed many men. There was Mobololo, 
and Dinguma, and Isongo, and Manyali. They 
were great chiefs, and their spirits all left us at that 
time. Then, afterwards I remember how we fought 
the people of Mbenga." 

Bulelu, who was now standing half-way up a stair- 
case, commenced to gesticulate. His reserve had 
vanished, and he entered into his subject with warmth. 

"The people of Mbenga attacked us, for they said 
we had an evil spirit, and that we had sent the power- 
ful White Man to kill them. But they lied. They 
came in canoes, and — Tor! Tor! our spears went 
into their bodies. See! one man fell dead here," and 
Bulelu pointed to a step beneath him. "Another 
came and fell on him, then another, and another; our 
drums and horns made noise, and in the forest be- 
hind, the women cried. Oh! many men were killed 
that day, and I saw them die — but I was only small. 
When the sun went down in the sky our people came 
with their knives, and during that night they ate many 
men. The ground was everywhere wet with blood, 
and it is bad for the feet to walk on blood, and " 

Here I interrupted Bulelu in his ghastly story. 
We went for a walk through rural lanes ; the peaceful 
bleating of sheep and the joyous song of the lark 

1 Stanley's exploration of the Congo, 1877. 



204 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

sounded strangely, when one's thoughts were far 
away in savage Africa. At length we halted by the 
banks of the river Colne, and while Bulelu sat, ab- 
sorbed in watching the trout darting through the 
water, I indulged in a momentary reflection upon 
the probable state of mind likely to be engendered in 
an African youth, accustomed from earliest infancy 
to view such sights, and to be surrounded by such 
associations as those depicted by Bulelu. The kill- 
ing of a wild animal in that far-off country is a far 
more memorable event than the slaughter of a human 
being. And yet there is nothing in this lad's manner 
suggestive of a savage disposition; on the contrary, 
he appears gentle and kind. His voice was soft and 
musical, and his bearing is respectful. The only out- 
ward token of his barbarism, apart from the tribal 
mark, or "dikwala," cicatrised upon his face, and his 
pointed teeth, was to be found in the peculiarly 
evasive expression of his bloodshot eyes. 

"Have you many relatives ?" I inquired of Bulelu, 
anxious to ascertain whether the superstitious scru- 
ples which prevent most Central Africans from men- 
tioning the names of the dead would still influence 
him under the present circumstances. 

"Four brothers, by the same mother." 

"Is your father living?" Bulelu grunted twice, 
and shook his open hand, to imply a negative answer. 

"What was your father's name?" 




A Congo chief 

From a bronze statue by the Author 
(Gold Medal, Paris Salon, 1908) 



THE IMPRESSIONS OF BULELU 205 

Again Bulelu grunted, and replied evasively: "I 
was very small at the time. He was a chieftain, 
with many slaves, and twenty-five wives, but my 
mother was his only wife that bore children. An 
evil spirit entered his heart, and he died from sleep." 

I may here mention that the fatal sleeping sickness, 
known to the natives as "Bokono," is very prevalent 
throughout the Congo country. Notwithstanding all 
my endeavours, I failed to elicit the name of Bulelu's 
father. 

"Would you be satisfied to live always in this 
country, Bulelu ? All things are good here. In 
your country you have but little pleasure." 

Bulelu stared thoughtfully at the fish in the river, 
and then replied simply: "I am lonely." 

Apparently, he was picturing to himself the glare 
of the tropical sun upon the feathery palm-trees; 
the dusky figures of his kinsmen, with their glisten- 
ing spears; the brilliant sun-birds, hovering around 
the tree-blossoms; the air animated with sounds of 
bees and flies, and the chattering of monkeys in the 
great forests; the gorgeous vegetation on all sides; 
the abundance of life. 

"When you return to your home at Bangala, you 
will be a great man, Bulelu. You are the first of 
your tribe to leave Africa," said I. 

"Ha! When I go back, and I tell my people of 
the wonders of your country, they will say: 



206 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

" 'Lukuta, koye.' (You lie.) 'Zambi te.' (Never 
mind.) I will reply: 'Bikei yonsono, malami be na' 
mputu. Sola e' koye.' (All I say is true. You say 
I lie. It is finished. I have seen those things; you 
have not.)" 

Here Bulelu elevated his eyebrows and shrugged 
his shoulders, then smiled with satisfaction at the 
indisputable logic with which he was prepared to 
vanquish his sceptical kinsmen. 



SOUVENIRS 

Seeking fire for my pipe, I once entered a small 
native hut. Within, all was dark and smoky. A 
smouldering fire was burning in the middle of the 
hut, from which I extracted the necessary ember. 
In front of me I perceived a crouching figure. At 
once I gave the ordinary native salute, but I received 
no reply. Extending my hand I discovered, to my 
horror, that the figure was a smoke-dried corpse. 
Emerging from the hut I met the owner, who seemed 
much disturbed. The figure within the hut was that 
of a favoured wife of his, and with great reluctance 
he at length explained to me, in his native idiom: 
"I loved her too much to put her in the ground." 

jjc jfl :{l JJJ JJ 1 

At San Paul de Loanda I met an aged Portuguese 
official, about whom an interesting story was told. 
It appeared that during a conversation between him- 
self and the captain of an English man-of-war the 
topic turned upon their mutual recollections of the 
slave-trade on the coast of Africa years ago. 

The Englishman in relating his experiences in this 
connection remarked that it was off San Paul de 

207 



208 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Loanda, where he was a midshipman at that time, 
that he had witnessed a most remarkable feat of 
seamanship. 

He was one of a party engaged in the chase of a 
fore-and-aft schooner which was known to be laden 
with slaves. The schooner escaped by weathering 
a certain headland, a feat which, considering the 
direction of the wind, gained the admiration of them 
all. He then entered into technical details of the 
incident bearing upon the direction of the wind, and 
in fact drew a rough diagram on the table. 

The aged Portuguese, who had listened quietly, 
now interposed a remark: "It would have been im- 
possible to have made that point if the direction of 
the wind was as you say." 

The Englishman replied somewhat impatiently: 

"But I remember well! I was there on the spot, 
as a midshipman." 

"Yes," said the old Portuguese, "that may have 
been. But I remember well, too ; I was the captain 
of that schooner." 

In the spring of 1886, when I was appointed to the 
command of Bangala station, one of my first experi- 
ences was undergoing the ceremony of blood-brother- 
hood with the native chief, the celebrated Mata Bwiki. 

He was a man of probably sixty years of age, nearly 
six feet in height, with broad shoulders, powerful 



SOUVENIRS 209 

limbs, and his countenance was rendered more cruel 
than perhaps it otherwise would have been by the 
loss of one eye. 

The object of this ceremony was to conform to the 
native custom, which estimated that blood-brother- 
hood was a form of cementing friendship, and a guar- 
antee of good faith binding equally to both parties. 

In the presence of a large crowd of noisy and evil- 
smelling people, Mata Bwiki and I seated ourselves 
on low wooden stools placed opposite to one another. 

Silence having been commanded by a certain man- 
ner of beating the drums, the inevitable Charm Doc- 
tor, arrayed in all his grandeur, made his appearance. 
An incision was cut in both our right arms just be- 
low the elbow, and as the blood flowed in a tiny 
stream the Charm Doctor sprinkled powdered chalk 
and potash on the wounds, delivering the while in 
rapid tones an appeal to us to maintain the validity 
of this contract. Our arms were then rubbed to- 
gether so that the flowing blood intermingled, and 
we were proclaimed to be brothers of one blood — 
this old cannibal king and I — whose interests hence- 
forth were to be as united as our blood. 

The witnesses of this ceremony expressed their 
agreement with the utterances of the Charm Doctor 
by giving way to boisterous expressions of approval. 
I may incidentally mention that the ceremony was 
for me a somewhat costly affair, for I was subse- 



210 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

quently tapped by the chief, Mata Bwiki, who sought 
tangible proofs of our new relationship in the practi- 
cal form of beads and cloth. 

^S J{l * * 5J« 

Whilst at Yambuya, many tragic events took place, 
the detailed narration of which I have dealt with 
elsewhere. 1 Of all the many tragedies which mark 
that epoch, there was one particularly pathetic in- 
cident which will always remain engraven on my 
mind. 

It was noon. The heat was intense, and the air 
was filled with buzzing insects. The sun's glare was 
blinding. There was a sour and pungent odour, aris- 
ing from the decaying refuse which lay about the 
outskirts of the camp. An unfortunate Zanzibari, 
whose legs were covered with suppurating ulcers, 
crawled along the ground with the aid of a stick. I 
expostulated with him for exposing himself to the 
intense heat of the sun, and offered to aid him to take 
shelter in a hut near by. Dropping his stick, he 
clasped his hands together and looked up into my 
face. The expression in his eyes seemed to burn 
into my soul. 

"O master," said he, "yesterday, my friend — the 
friend of my youth, died; they buried him yonder; 
we swore never to be parted. Alikua rafiki angu 
sana." (He was my great friend.) And with an im- 

i"My Life with Stanley's Rear Guard." Chatto & Windus. 



SOUVENIRS 211 

ploring glance which still haunts me, he continued: 
"O Bwana wangu!" (Let me follow him.) 

With difficulty I succeeded to some extent in sooth- 
ing the man's grief, and I left him within the camp, 
where at least he might lie protected from the sun 
and the tormenting flies. 

That night a terrific storm swept over the forest, 
one of those tornadoes which are peculiar to the 
tropical regions of Africa, and of the violence of which 
it is difficult to give an adequate description. It 
was my duty that night to visit the sentries, for we 
were living in troublous times and from experience 
we knew that it was upon such occasions as this 
that attacks were made by the ever-watchful natives 
who surrounded us. 

Floundering along in the drenching rain, dazed 
by of the deafening roar of thunder and being 
blinded from time to time by the vivid flashes of 
lightning which seemed to cleave the sky close above 
my head, I tripped and fell over a soft body which 
lay across my path. Procuring a fire stick from an 
adjacent hut, I discovered that I had fallen over the 
dead body of the poor fellow who had so pitifully 
pleaded his sorrow to me the previous day. 

He had died within the hut and his callous com- 
panions had thrown his dead body forth. With con- 
flicting feelings of sympathy for the poor dead man, 
and anger towards his cold-blooded companions, I 



212 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

occupied myself in burying the poor body in the 
same grave with that of his friend. 

Nature's angry aspect passed away and the sun 
rose next morning in a cloudless sky, shining brightly 
upon the mound of freshly turned earth wherein 
there lay buried side by side the two Zanzibari 
friends. 

5fc H 1 H 1 . ^ ^ 

Travelling with a caravan during the rainy season, 
I once came to a swollen torrent which baffled all 
our attempts to ford. We succeeded at length in 
felling a small tree in such a way that it lay across 
the river. Unfortunately it fell over the deepest part 
and sank some three feet below the surface. Cau- 
tiously, each man of my caravan crossed, until there 
remained but one native and myself. 

The native stepped upon the submerged tree and 
felt his way carefully, balancing himself with con- 
siderable difficulty. I followed a few feet behind. 
The muddy water swirled past very swiftly. 

About half way across, I heard a cry from the 
bank, and the next moment I caught sight of a heavy 
log floating down towards us, borne swiftly with the 
current. The poor native in front of me was struck 
upon the shoulder; he lost his balance and disap- 
peared. A second later, while I was making every 
endeavour to steady myself, there appeared below 
me the face of the unfortunate man, distorted with 



SOUVENIRS 213 

terror. Throwing his arms in the air he cried 
mournfully : 

"Ekh — mamma!" and sank for the last time in 
the swirling torrent. 

In the pioneer days of the Congo, before the era 
of railroads, all loads had to be carried overland 
by natives, and a system of manual transport be- 
came quite an institution. The loads, which were 
carried on their heads, were as a rule arranged 
in such a way as not to exceed sixty-five lbs. in 
weight. 

The main caravan roads that lead into the interior 
are less than a foot wide, and this width is preserved 
throughout the whole length. The people using 
these paths are in the habit of advancing along them 
with a peculiar tread, bringing each foot directly 
in front of the other. Frequently, in following the 
flat bed of a valley the path winds in apparently an 
unnecessary manner. The explanation is simple. 
Weary and exhausted, carriers often died upon 
the path. A subsequent caravan following the same 
route made a detour, in the form of a loop, to avoid 
passing over the dead body, and in a brief space of 
time vegetation springing up, the former direction 
of the path was soon lost to view. 

The progress of a caravan in the forest is frequently 
impeded by swollen rivers and often one found 



214 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

bridges, cleverly constructed with vines and creepers, 
suspended from high trees on either side, requiring 
considerable skill to traverse. A toll was usually 
demanded from passing caravans by the people who 
had constructed the bridges. 

The life of a carrier was a hard one. However, 
they preferred carrying a heavy load two hundred 
miles, over most difficult country, to steady employ- 
ment day after day. The sense of freedom, to travel 
or to idle as they felt inclined, was more in harmony 
with the African nature than the routine of steady 
daily work. 

A few handfuls of pea-nuts or cones of maize com- 
posed their provisions. They toiled all day over 
stony hills and waded through swamps with heavy 
loads upon their heads, many hours at a time without 
a halt. 

When darkness came, they stopped for the night 
wherever they chanced to be. They drew their flim- 
sy loin cloths around their shoulders, and stretched 
themselves before the fire, upon the bare ground to 
sleep. During the night, gusts of cold wind or a rain- 
storm would awaken them. They would stir up the 
fire and crouch before it with chattering teeth. At 
dawn they arose, yawned, stretched their stiffened 
limbs, rearranged their loin cloths, and with their 
heavy loads they started off again to cover perhaps 
fifteen miles without a halt. 




A vine bridge, Lower Congo 

Drawn by the Author 



SOUVENIRS 215 

Although transport by carriers within the cataract 
region of the Lower Congo River is to-day a thing 
of the past, owing to the construction of the rail- 
way, the traveller bound for the far interior of 
Africa by way of the mighty water route of the 
Congo River had, twenty years ago, almost at the 
outset of his journey to undertake an arduous 
overland march of some three hundred miles be- 
fore reaching Stanley Pool, the point whence light- 
draught steamers were able to convey him into 
the heart of the Continent. From Stanley Pool 
the Upper Congo, with its northern and southern 
affluents, affords about five thousand miles of water- 
way, which is navigable for small steamers of light 
draught. 

This overland march through the Lower Congo 
country was rendered necessary by reason of the suc- 
cession of formidable cataracts, which more or less 
obstruct the navigation of the Congo from Matadi — 
a point situated one hundred miles from the ocean — 
as far as Stanley Pool. It was then within this 
cataract region of the Lower Congo River that car- 
riers were indispensable. Since the formation of 
the "Congo Independent State," up to the year 1900, 
which marked the inauguration of the new Congo 
Railway, all goods needed in the interior, from per- 
sonal effects to sections and parts of steam launches, 
had to be transported from Matadi to Stanley Pool 



216 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

upon the heads and shoulders of natives. To ap- 
preciate fully the difficulties, the individual sufferings 
and sacrifice of life entailed in this system of human 
transport it is necessary to have travelled under 
similar conditions. 

In order to facilitate the conveyance of goods, each 
burden was, as already stated, carefully packed to 
weigh between sixty and sixty-five pounds. In cases 
where such weights were inexpedient, a pole was 
made fast to the load so that it might be suspended 
from the shoulders of two men walking one behind 
another. 

The entire journey was divided into two stages, 
a condition rendered necessary by tribal jealousy, 
which prevented the two chief tribes engaged 
in transport from passing through each other's 
country. 

The midway stage, where loads were transferred, 
was at Manyanga. The payment to each carrier 
who had safely delivered his load, was made by 
a stipulated number of yards of Manchester cot- 
ton cloth; a payment amounting in value to a sum 
below three shillings. This amount was cheer- 
fully received, in full settlement of all claims, for 
having borne a sixty-five-pound load over a dis- 
tance of one hundred and fifty miles, through a 
rough and hilly country. The subsequent and 
final stage of the overland transport was under- 



SOUVENIRS 217 

taken by members of other tribes, in return for 
similar payment. 

The recruiting of carriers, a task requiring some 
tact and knowledge of the native character, was 
accomplished among the small, scattered villages 
through the medium of petty chiefs and headmen, 
the average number recruited in each caravan vary- 
ing between twenty and fifty men, in charge of a 
kapita, or headman, who was nominally responsible 
for the safe delivery of the goods at their destination. 

The time occupied in transporting a load from 
Matadi to Stanley Pool was at all times an uncertain 
quantity. Allowing liberal time for the delays that 
are always incidental to African travel, it was neces- 
sary to allow two or three months to elapse before 
expecting its arrival. Although the actual distance 
traversed, somewhat less than three hundred miles, 
could easily be accomplished within two weeks if 
conditions were favourable, the system betrayed its 
dependence upon frail human nature: lengthy delays 
in village homes far from the caravan path accounted 
in a general way for many shortcomings. Ready 
and original explanations were always made to ac- 
count for delay, and the ingenuity exercised in this 
relation must have proved no small tax upon the 
ready wit of the headman. 

In appearance the Congo carriers were far from 
suggesting any abnormal degree of physique, but in 



218 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

reality they possessed powers of endurance that were 
quite remarkable. 



My spare time in Africa was generally occupied 
in making notes, studying the language, and sketch- 
ing native types. This latter operation was rendered 
somewhat difficult upon occasions, on account of the 
natives frequently entertaining an idea that my 
searching glances and mysterious markings were 
connected with the casting of a spell ; and without any 
warning they would often jump up and dash away. 
It appeared difficult for them to understand pictorial 
decoration on a flat surface. When they regarded 
my drawings closely they had a habit of turning them 
upside down, a peculiarity which I attributed to an 
unusual change of focus in their vision, their eyes 
being accustomed to distant views. Not only did 
they find difficulty in understanding a drawing on a 
flat surface, but also the change of scale was a mys- 
tery to them. They all appeared to possess the sense 
of form, a fact which is proved by their truly artistic 
productions both in their weapons and in the carv- 
ing of their wooden idols. 

DlARY. February 3, 1885. 

I find it quite interesting to sort over my traps 
and to try and remember the origin of each article in 
my possession. These boots poor Ingham gave me 



SOUVENIRS 219 

just before he was killed. This shirt I have on was 
one of four that I bought from a sick missionary 
who died soon afterwards. I gave him an elephant's 
tail for them. This pair of trousers was a gift from 
Major Parminter. They are sadly worn in the seat. 
My native servant tried to patch them, but he could 
not find any better cloth than a piece of lint from my 
stock of surgical bandages. So he sewed it on with the 
woolly side out. Lint is not much good for patches. 

January 1, 1886. 

What a relief it was when morning came, for about 
midnight a heavy tornado nearly blew my tent away, 
and everything was drenched. And after the heavy 
rain, elephants were heard trumpeting, and buffaloes 
bellowed on the mainland; and some of the people 
in the village blew their horns and beat their drums 
to frighten them off. And this is New Year's Day. 

Marching back through the primeval forest to 
Yambuya, after an interview with Tippo Tib, I be- 
came detached from my caravan. I found myself 
beside a sandy stream and I heard elephants in the 
vicinity. Indeed their fresh marks were all around 
me. Knowing it was useless to proceed further, I 
determined to await the arrival of my followers. 

Reclining on the bank of the stream, with my arms 
above my head, I gazed up into the dense panoply 



220 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

of leaves overhead. After some little time I became 
conscious of the presence of two Pygmies sitting on 
a bough above me. They were motionless, and so 
well did the colour of their skin harmonise with the 
surroundings that they gave the impression almost 
of invisibility. It was perhaps fortunate for me that 
I retained sufficient presence of mind to speak 
softly. But I received no reply to my gentle salu- 
tation, and before I had realised it, they had edged 
their way along the branch and disappeared. 

On my passage home from Africa I travelled on 
board a Portuguese steamer. When within about 
twelve hours' steaming of the island of San Thome, 
which lies on the Equator, off Gaboon, we sighted a 
capsized boat. The weather had been rough and a 
heavy sea was still running. We lowered one of our 
boats, which proceeded with difficulty towards the 
derelict. Our astonishment was great when we found 
that two Africans were clinging to it, Soon we had 
them on board, two forlorn men, who were quite ex- 
hausted. After a little rest and nourishment we suc- 
ceeded in obtaining their story. They were both 
slaves belonging to a cocoa plantation. Three days 
before they had attempted to escape from their cruel 
bondage in an open boat. Having no knowledge 
whatever of their bearings, they rowed, with true 
African unreasoning confidence, in the direction of 




A Congo carrier 

Drawn by the Author 



SOUVENIRS 221 

the rising sun. They were caught by the storm, their 
boat was capsized, and they had passed three days 
clinging to the bottom of the boat without food of 
any description. 

Their survival was the more remarkable from the 
fact that the vicinity of San Thome is one of the 
most shark-infested portions of the coast. 

We naturally felt great pity for them and they 
were the recipients of various presents, including a 
very handsome clasp-knife. 

That same night there was a disturbance between 
these two men. It was discovered that the man who 
had received the clasp-knife was deliberately attempt- 
ing to kill his comrade, and had already inflicted 
some deep flesh wounds. The trouble arose from a 
spirit of envy. One man had been allotted a blue 
blanket and the other a red blanket, and the man 
with the clasp-knife was envious of his compan- 
ion's blanket, which he preferred to his own. It was 
a deadly quarrel over a mere question of colour. 

With regard to the black followers of the Emin 
Relief Expedition, we have no complete record of the 
number of deaths, owing to the difficulty of differ- 
entiating desertions, but the mortality among them 
was fearful. Many of them were deserving of the 
very highest praise for their truly heroic courage. It 
must be borne in mind that their presence in the ex- 



222 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

pedition was in many cases involuntary, inasmuch 
as they were either slaves belonging to Arab masters 
in Zanzibar, or were compelled by force of adverse 
circumstances in the form of debt or other difficulties 
to enlist. 

The Zanzibari porter is in the majority of in- 
stances a faithful, patient servant — who will suffer 
severe privation without further remark than a whin- 
ing plea of hunger — "Nzaa sana bwana!" — as he 
tightens the belt around his waist. He is paid at the 
average rate of a dollar a week, payable upon his 
return to Zanzibar. He is not actuated by high 
motives, and he does not appreciate the glory of 
publicity. His chief care is to preserve his life, and 
his only ambition is to return home to Zanzibar, 
where he may enjoy a brief spell of leisure. 

Notwithstanding his material view of life the 
Zanzibari porter displays at times a rare amount of 
noble devotion and loyalty. These qualities were 
indeed sorely tried during their service in the Emin 
Relief Expedition, and many are the spots upon the 
route where the poor exhausted men fell out and 
died. Remaining with me always is the recollection 
of their patient sufferings, which for true pathos 
can scarcely be surpassed. 



REFLECTIONS 

The remarkable similarity which exists between 
human nature and animal life in the great forest 
region of Central Africa is a most interesting subject 
and one which, to my knowledge, has not hitherto 
been touched upon. 

In the rivers that flow through the forest regions, 
hippopotami abound, with their heavy bodies, short 
necks, and stunted legs. Chimpanzees and other 
large apes who are denizens of this forest region 
present the same characteristics, inasmuch as their 
bodies are abnormally large in proportion to their 
legs. Certain birds of the forest suggest a similar 
tendency. Likewise — and here is the point of inter- 
est — the natives living in these same regions are often 
remarkable for their stunted legs, abnormally long 
bodies, and short, thick necks. Outside this forest 
region towards the Soudan, there flourish gazelles 
and various other animals with long slender legs. 
So also we find the natives — the Niam Niam for ex- 
ample — with abnormally long legs and short bodies. 

The remarkable provision of nature in giving to 
her African people the skin-colour which harmonises 

223 



224 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

so extraordinarily with natural surroundings, no mat- 
ter what they may be, is a definite and interesting 
fact. The African's skin, no matter how great the 
heat of the sun may be, is always cool. The black 
skin with its large pores and abundance of oily mat- 
ter seems to be possessed of certain qualities which 
are altogether wanting in our white skin. 

The climate of the Congo region of Central Africa 
will always prove a barrier to individual effort on the 
part of Europeans. It is true that they may endure 
the life for a few years, but it is always with di- 
minishing strength. That enormous low-lying, for- 
est-clad land, with its great heat and vast extent of 
obstructed rivers, can never become the permanent 
home of any other race but the Africans. 

The African savage, standing in his forest sur- 
roundings, appears natural and in his true element. 

As the country, so are the people, the most primi- 
tive forms being found in the almost impenetrable 
depths of the forest. So awe-inspiring in fact is this 
great forest, that you almost fear to hear the sound of 
your own voice. Within its depths, as though by in- 
stinct, one speaks in whispers. To raise one's voice 
becomes an effort. 

5ji 5JS 5jC >Jl jfc 

What a land of strange and fatal enchantment is 
this heart of Africa! 




Native fighting knife, Mangalla 

In the collection of the Author 



REFLECTIONS 225 

What an inexpressible charm there is in picking 
one's way through localities that have never before 
been visited by a white man; seeing strange faces 
and hearing strange languages! To be alone where 
nature and human nature are alike in a crude state; 
to be far away in the midst of a primitive people 
whose nature is wild and uncultivated — people who 
are simple, savage in ignorance, timid, and ever fear- 
ing for their lives. To be the one delegate as it were 
of the modern world, in the midst of countless thou- 
sands of human beings whose minds are the minds of 
primitive mankind. To live free from all the petty 
conventionalities and ramifications of civilisation; to 
be able to forego all the artificial necessities of our 
modern home life; to give free play to that strong, 
inward craving for true natural liberty — these are 
some of the subtle attractions that inoculate every 
man of African experience: these are the charms 
which cast their spell upon all African travellers, and 
which have held so many of them fascinated for the 
remainder of their lives. 

SjC 3|C 3|C 3}C 5|C 

It has been my experience that the longer one 
lives with Africans, the more one grows to love 
them. Prejudices soon vanish. The black skin 
loses even something of its unpleasant characteris- 
tics, for one knows that it covers such a very hu- 
man heart. 



226 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Human nature is always the same; it does not 
change. We all know that there are certain qual- 
ities indigenous to the human mind in general. 
These identical qualities which we share with 
Africans should surely be regarded more than 
they are at present, as bonds of sympathy and 
conciliation in uniting men's affection for one an- 
other. 

That "untaught nature has no principles" is a 
familiar axiom. In the case of the Congo savages, 
one is often too ready to estimate them as beings 
of nature, untaught, a degraded race, without con- 
science or even scruples. True it is that so they 
appear, for they have none of those finer feelings or 
sentiments which are known to us as mercy or char- 
ity — but the result of intercourse with even the lowest 
types, affords abundant testimony to their being in 
possession of an instinctive conscience. It is also 
true that they are naturally cruel, that they rob and 
murder, and even eat the bodies of their fellow man ; 
but the fact must not be forgotten that they are not 
conscious of wrong in so doing. A Congo savage 
seldom does that which he feels intuitively to be 
wrong. 

Living as we do, generation after generation, in a 
condition of continuous progression, surrounded by 
so much that is complicated and artificial in our lives, 
it is difficult for us really to understand what life 



REFLECTIONS 227 

means to the Congo savage who dwells in harmony 
with wild and unrestricted nature. 

sjs % :jj % >Jc 

In view of the growth of modern tendencies in 
relation to questions of socialism and economy, much 
that is instructive may be gathered from a study of 
existing conditions of the life of the Congo savage. 
In Central Africa we have a complete object-lesson 
before us of the ultimate results of life under condi- 
tions of equality. It would seem that the social state 
of equality which is observed by primitive mankind 
is now the aim and ambition of most highly civilised 
communities. Social equality appears to be the first 
and last ambition in the history of mankind. 

In Central Africa the spirit of enterprise among 
the people is restrained, not to say crushed, by the 
fear of exciting the envy and cupidity of their fel- 
lows. As an instance, one who builds a better house 
than his neighbour's will have his house pulled 
down forthwith. Then again if a man exerts him- 
self to amass native riches, he courts the enmity 
of all his fellows and becomes doomed to an early 
death. Ambition to excel, which is such a natural 
attribute of human nature, receives no encourage- 
ment in Central Africa. Coinciding with this state 
of life, we find the people living in a state of 
anarchy and ignorance, without a constitution, 
without a history, and even without definitely estab- 



228 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

lished habitations. They lack even the ambition of 
conquest and are content to pass their lives in a state 
of mental atrophy. So much for equality. 

:jc ^s j{j >(i ^« 

A great deal could be written of the everyday 
annoyances which are common to the lives of 
Europeans in Central Africa. Exposure to the pow- 
erful sun by day, and to the cold fogs by night, with 
a meagre diet — sometimes so meagre that it can 
scarcely be termed monotonous— r tries even the 
stoutest constitution. The mind also undergoes a 
constant strain, for one's followers need incessant 
watching, supervision, and direction. Often a feeling 
of utter loneliness comes over one, a feeling of 
being hopelessly far away. The eyes grow weary 
of the monotonous colour; the sickly odours of de- 
caying vegetation, and the ever-present pungent 
smell of African bodies are not refreshing to the 
nostrils ; as for one's ears, they grow utterly weary 
of the incessant babble of human voices in the 
villages. 

Mosquitoes in that country are as actively aggres- 
sive by day as they are by night. They are a source 
of continual irritation to one's nerves, not to speak 
of their poisonous injections, or the ulcerous sores 
which frequently follow their bites. 

One's slumbers are greatly disturbed by the in- 
visible midges, noxious little insects who breakfast 




Mementos 




Native fighting knife, Aruimi 

In the collection of the Author 



REFLECTIONS 229 

upon one's body between two and three o'clock 
in the morning. 

Then there is the burrowing flea, commonly known 
as the jigger. This pest eats into the flesh, affecting 
principally one's feet, and is extremely expeditious in 
hatching large families therein. Natives suffer a 
great deal from these insects, for they neglect the 
wound, and as a result they frequently die of blood- 
poisoning. On the sea-coast at Cabinda I was shown 
the decaying hull of a "fore-and-aft" schooner which 
is reputed to have been the means of introducing 
" jiggers" into Africa. This vessel, bound from the 
West Indies, discharged its earth ballast containing 
a quantity of these burrowing fleas, upon the beach 
at Cabinda, and the pests were conveyed thence 
inland in the feet of caravan natives. It is to be 
noted that jiggers are never to be met with except 
on the caravan routes. 

One of the charms of travelling light in Africa lies 
in the fact that having but little to lose there is little 
fear of losing it. There is also food for reflection in 
the fact of being in a country with no money currency: 
although apt to feel most other things out there, one 
never felt poor. 

***** 

With regard to rubber, which has become the main 
feature of the exportations from the Congo, until 



230 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

within recent years it was only used by the Congo 
natives to put on the ends of their drum-sticks. It 
would be interesting to have their reflections upon 
the extraordinary desire of the Europeans for rubber. 
They must imagine that the manufacture of drum- 
sticks in Europe assumes vast proportions indeed, to 
call for such quantities of rubber as are exported 
from their country. 

Although a cook was always one of the most im- 
portant members of one's travelling equipment, it is 
not to be inferred that provisions were so varied and 
plentiful as to demand particularly high-class culinary 
skill. The chief qualification of a cook depended 
upon his quick wits. Comparatively little difficulty 
was ever experienced in the manner or method in 
which food was cooked. The main question always 
hinged upon finding something to cook, and that was 
the all-important part of the cook's duties. 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 

In the early days, that is to say in the interim 
between Stanley's discovery of the course of the 
Congo River, and the formation of the Congo Inde- 
pendent State, the pioneer work of the Congo was 
carried out under more or less difficult circumstances. 
Men of various nationalities who had all signed con- 
tracts in Brussels for three years' service arrived upon 
the scene and were in due course delegated to various 
points inland, with directions to make treaties with 
natives and to establish themselves as well as they 
could. 

Such conditions as these naturally afforded sub- 
jects that were rich in life's drama. There was 
pathos, and some humour. Frequently tragedy, and 
always more or less suffering. 

Mysterious yarns they were that the natives told 
of the behaviour of a new-comer. He was a Swede, 
with blue eyes, mild expression, a gentle voice, and a 

231 



A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

kind heart— the sort of man with whom one could 
associate no idea of evil. He had not been in Africa 
very long, but it was evident, from day to day, that 
his health was breaking down and that his whole 
system was becoming undermined. 

The natives said that by night, when all was 
hushed, our Scandinavian colleague was in the habit 
of creeping through the bushes and disappearing in 
a hole that he had dug in the ground. 

It was not long before the mystery was revealed. 
Said he: 

"I feel it my duty to tell you all of the secret dis- 
covery I have made, the discovery of gold! I have 
sacks full of gold in my hut yonder. So far as I am 
concerned personally, my fortune is now assured. 
I think that the time has come when I ought to make 
my discovery known. I will show you my mine." 

Trembling with excitement, he led the way to the 
fatal spot. 

The subsequent development of this incident took 
a tragic turn. Upon learning the hard truth, that 
what he had considered to be gold was merely mica 
(which certainly bears some resemblance to the pre- 
cious metal), the shock to his emotions was too severe 
for his overwrought brain. 

The mine was no longer a mine. Henceforth it 
was marked by a little mound of earth and a rough- 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 233 

hewn cross. Our poor Swedish friend had dug his 
own grave. 

% Up. j|j ^ * 

The first name I would mention of all the Euro- 
pean pioneers who were connected with the opening 
up of the Congo is the name of my friend and com- 
panion since 1884, Roger Casement. Imagine a tall, 
handsome man, of fine bearing; thin, mere muscle 
and bone, a sun-tanned face, blue eyes and black 
curly hair. A pure Irishman he is, with a captivat- 
ing voice and a singular charm of manner. A man 
of distinction and great refinement, high-minded and 
courteous, impulsive and poetical. Quixotic perhaps 
some would say, and with a certain truth, for few 
men have shown themselves so regardless of personal 
advancement. 

The world is familiar with Consul Casement's 
Report, which constituted the official indictment of 
misrule in the Congo Independent State. Case- 
ment's Report has had a far-reaching effect; it was 
in a large measure due to his representations to the 
British Government that the present change of con- 
ditions has been brought about, whereby the Belgian 
nation have taken over the Congo Independent 
State. 

* * * * * 

A popular man was X. the carpenter. In the ful- 
filment of his duties he rendered important service. 



234 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

The relative comfort enjoyed by the Governor and 
his 'personnel was due in a large measure to his handi- 
work, for he constructed their habitations, furniture, 
and all sorts of useful articles. 

During his term of service, which extended over a 
period of three years, he worked faithfully and well. 

His conversation by day and his dreams by night 
were of his home and family, and the prospect of his 
departure cheered him in his work. 

As a special favour to the Governor, when his term 
of service had expired, he reluctantly agreed to re- 
main three weeks longer, in order to complete cer- 
tain work. It was arranged that he should take the 
next steamer after the one by which he had been 
originally due to sail. 

Standing on the wharf he saw the little launch 
which should have borne him homewards cast off 
and drift down river to join the ocean steamer. 

And that little launch must have taken his heart 
away with it, for he died before the next boat left. 

Upon arriving, footsore and weary, in a native 
village, and anxious to camp there for the night, a 
traveller was persuaded by the people to proceed 
further. 

"We have a madman," said they, "and he is very 
fierce. If you remain here he will surely come and 
kill you in the night." 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 235 

In spite of the warning, the traveller decided to 
remain. Some hours afterwards he was awakened 
by an uproar. The madman had cleared the entire 
village of its inhabitants, and subsequently passed 
the remainder of the night in friendly conversation 
with the traveller. 

In the early days, when white men first went into 
the far interior, the natives concluded that the boots 
they wore formed part of themselves, and it became a 
legend among them that white men had webbed feet. 

Captain Bailey was one of the most charming, 
equal-tempered companions I ever met. He was 
a good sportsman, and reliable from every point 
of view. The only occasion upon which any rupture 
ever appeared to disturb the harmony of our perfect 
friendship happened at the Luima River, where we 
had camped together in one tent. 

In the early morning we had arranged a shooting 
expedition, Captain Baiiey taking the left bank of 
the River and myself the right. We started soon after 
daybreak. 

It was my good fortune to find a herd of buffalo 
quietly browsing on a plain, and good fortune fol- 
lowed me to the extent of bagging the leading bull 
of the herd. It being a very hot day, I afterwards 
retired to a shady grove and enjoyed a peaceful siesta. 



A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Later on, on my way back to camp, feeling thirsty, 
I encountered a native by great good fortune, carry 
ing a large calabash of palm-wine. 

"What have you in your calabash?" "Only 
water," he replied. "Water," said If "that's what 
I need." And I enjoyed a deep draught of fresh' 
palm-wine ! 

A little further on I passed through a village where 
the evening meal was in course of preparation. The 
people were hospitable, and I shared their meal of 
succulent maize and roasted pea-nuts. Arriving in 
camp about sundown, I changed my clothes, took a 
bath, and seated in front of the camp fire I smoked 
a peaceful pipe, wondering what had become of 
Bailey. 

The sky suddenly became overcast, and all was 
dark. An ominous rumble in the distance betokened 
the approach of a tropical storm. 

During the next half-hour rain fell in torrents, and 
the temperature dropped many degrees. 

At the conclusion of the storm Captain Bailey 
appeared. His usual cheeriness had deserted him. 
He was gloomy and angry, and very short in his 
replies. 

It appears that he had tramped the whole day in 
the hot sun over a very rough country where there 
were many rocks, without sighting game of any kind. 
He had sustained a fall, broken his pipe, split his only 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 237 

pair of breeches, bruised himself in many places, and 
had been caught in the storm, drenched to the skin, 
lost his way, and had passed the entire day without 
food. 

The following morning, however, his voice was as 
cheery as usual, and the inequality of our respective 
adventures of the previous day became less a subject 
of tragedy. 

An aged savant on his way into the interior, when 
crossing a small river on the shoulders of a native, 
was accidentally precipitated into the water. After 
being carried down some little distance by the cur- 
rent, the poor old man clutched a rock and cried 
piteously : 

"What shall I do ? Oh! what shall I do ?" 
"Why, get out, you silly old fool and dry your 
clothes," replied his practical-minded companion, 
who was seated complacently smoking on the oppo- 
site bank. 

An Englishman who was en route for the Congo 
was shipwrecked on the West Coast of Africa, and 
was picked up by a returning vessel and taken back 
to Liverpool. 

He started out again, this time on board the ill- 
fated steamer Corisco, and was shipwrecked a second 
time on the African coast, losing all his effects. 



238 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

His third attempt was more successful, and he 
reached the Congo. A month later he died from 
fever. 

Jjl %. ={c j}s jj? 

A young Swede was invalided home from the 
Congo. After an examination the doctors told him 
that he was in a bad way, and gave him only six 
months to live. Far from being discouraged, our 
friend decided to obtain as much pleasure out of this 
limited period of his life as was possible with the 
means at his disposal. 

At the end of six months his health was re- 
established. He however, had spent all his money. 
As he himself remarked, when telling the story: 

"I even selled my vatch." 

* :fj Jj« :f: % 

X. was a Fin, an engineer, a cheery little soul. I 
remember an oily skin was one of his characteristics. 
It seemed almost as though he had impregnated him- 
self with the grease he used for his engines. When 
his term of service on the Congo came to an end 
he started home in the gayest of spirits. It was not 
long however before we received him back in our 
midst. It appears that upon arriving in Brussels in 
mid- winter to be paid off, he sent to his far northern 
home for his overcoat. While awaiting its arrival he 
spent all his money. When the coat arrived it was 
of but little use to him. Being without money he 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 239 

was unable to proceed home, and so he re-enlisted 
and returned again to Africa. 

* * * * * 

In the early days of the Congo, European provisions 
for the white men were sent from Brussels. 

Bottles of vinegar and cognac used to be hermeti- 
cally sealed in tins. Tea, sugar, and other perishable 
articles were frequently sent in paper bags! 

Later on provisions were sent out to us by the 
firm of Crosse & Blackwell, and one sometimes 
heard them alluded to by the Belgians as the stores 
of " Black and Cross Very Well." 

Marching up-country a party of five or six Swedish 
officers, who had but recently arrived in Africa, were 
all suddenly taken ill. 

It appeared at first as though they were suffering 
from ptomaine poisoning; but the tin containing the 
suspicious matter which they had consumed in the 
form of soup still retained its legibly printed label: 
"Finest English Lard!" 

***** 

Surgeon-Major Parke possessed a strong element 
of that resistless Irish cheerfulness that was his by 
right of birth. A passing little illustration of this 
latter trait may be gathered from his remarks when 
rendered dangerously ill in Central Africa by an acute 
attack of fever: 



240 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

"Ah! well, I've one consolation if I do die — I'm 
the first Irishman that's ever been in these wild parts!" 

Poor Glave, one of the most promising of all the 
band of early Congo pioneers, used to tell how he 
once objected to buying lumps of half-putrid fish 
from the natives, on account of its smell. 

"Yes," replied they, "but you don't eat the smell!" 

Captain Deane expressed a great desire to learn 
the Congo language, and so we sat one day together, 
I, for my part, endeavouring to supply him with as 
useful a vocabulary as I could. His mind was con- 
centrated upon elephant-hunting, and he couldn't 
get beyond the phrase: "Where are they?" 

My fellow passengers aboard ship during my voyage 
out to the Congo were mostly West African traders. 
They formed a community by themselves, and were 
remarkable in their observation of numerous points of 
West Coast etiquette, and they were also very particu- 
lar as regards the cleanliness of their white clothes. 

When we reached Bonny the ship was visited by 
a notable personage, Mary Ann, the Bonny washer- 
woman. She was a particularly fine type of a West 
African. Her face was wreathed in smiles and her 
body was round and full, and bore testimony to the 
possession of both vigour and health. 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 241 

She was a well-known character. Whilst she be- 
came an object of chaff and banter with my fellow 
passengers, and in fact with the majority of the ship's 
company, her assistants busied themselves in collect- 
ing the entire laundry of the ship. 

As there seemed but little chance of engaging the 
services of Mary Ann, I accepted the offer of a tall, 
serious-looking negro who faithfully promised that 
my washing should be delivered on board the ship 
that night by sundown. 

Being a stranger to the place and to the people, I 
planned to pass my day wandering about the native 
town of Bonny with my sketch-book. By noon I 
found myself on the outskirts of the town; here the 
main native path led through a swamp. Plodding 
through the swamp, with the water nearly up to my 
armpits, I reached the opposite shore and was saluted 
by sounds of song and laughter. Having realised a 
sense of loneliness by this time, I found something 
particularly cheerful in listening to the merry voices 
ahead. 

Entering the gates of a compound, I found myself 
in the midst of Mary Ann's washing establishment, 
among some twenty or thirty young negresses, all bus- 
ily engaged in washing the clothes which had been 
collected from the ship and which they cleaned by the 
aid of very vigorous measures, flapping them down 
on the stones and generally knocking them to pieces. 



242 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

I was received very kindly, and as reference was 
made to the excessive heat of the day, I took the hint 
and suggested that the company might be disposed to 
refresh themselves at my expense. This idea seemed 
to meet with general approval, and during the re- 
mainder of the afternoon I was regaled with great 
good-humour and witnessed a series of native dances 
which were distinctly free and characteristic of peo- 
ple who were unfettered by conventionality. As the 
day waned I bade adieu to my joyous friends, and 
with empty pockets I made my way back to the ship, 
where at dinner-time I found myself the sole occu- 
pant of the dining saloon ; the remainder of the pas- 
sengers and the ship's officers being ashore as guests 
of the different traders. I may mention that I also 
found my clothes which had been washed and re- 
turned according to promise. 

Early the following morning the anchor was hove 
short, and as the ship was swinging I observed the 
chief steward engaged in a somewhat animated dis- 
cussion with the captain. From a word here and 
there, I gathered that Mary Ann had failed to bring 
back the ship's washing. 

Anger and discontent increased as the passengers 
came on deck and learned the true state of affairs, 
but the captain was deaf to expostulation and would 
listen to no arguments for delaying the departure of 
the ship. Slowly we drifted down with the tide, and 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 243 

presently passed an open space among the palm-trees. 
There, grouped at the water's edge, we recognised 
Mary Ann surrounded by washerwomen all cheer- 
fully waving "Good-bye" to us, swinging round 
their heads the very clothes which should have been 
on board our vessel! 

X. was a queer character. He was known among 
us as a light-hearted, devil-may-care fellow, fond of 
action, treating his mission lightly, and trying to ex- 
tract whatever fun and humour there was to be ob- 
tained out of life. 

He was alone on his station, which was situated 
far away from the base of supplies, and which was 
also a long distance from the caravan road. As the 
weary months passed he felt a yearning for compan- 
ionship. But no one ever passed by. 

One day there arrived at headquarters a special 
message from our friend asking for immediate aid. 
He stated that he was in imminent risk of being at- 
tacked by the natives. 

Forthwith an expedition was despatched to his 
assistance. Naturally, coming from headquarters, 
the expedition was well-equipped with provisions, 
and under the leadership of three white men. 

Upon arrival they were met by X. at the gate of the 
entrance to the fortified station. He informed them 
that an attack might be expected at any moment, 



244 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

and as an indication of the unsettled condition of the 
country he called their attention to the distant boom- 
ing of drums. 

Meanwhile the expedition took up their quarters, 
posted sentinels, and awaited developments. 

Several days passed without incident, save the 
intermittent booming of drums during the day, and 
the occasional beacon fires which flared from the 
surrounding hill-tops by night. 

Between times X. certainly enjoyed to the full the 
relative gaiety afforded by the advent of the relief 
expedition, and the fresh stock of provisions which 
they brought. 

Upon the fifth day (I may incidentally mention 
that the provisions of the relieving force were by this 
time sufficiently exhausted) the station was visited by 
two of the leading chiefs with their retinue. X., being 
the only man of the party with any knowledge what- 
ever of the native language, harangued the natives 
in truly dramatic style, and later on explained to the 
leader of the relieving force that the chiefs had ten- 
dered their submission, and that now all danger was 
at an end. With effusive farewells the chiefs retired. 

The following day the relieving force withdrew, 
leaving behind them the remnants of their stock of 
provisions. 

Rumour has it that the whole affair was prear- 
ranged. Be that as it may, I have reason to know 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 245 

that our friend X. enjoyed this temporary break in 
the monotony of his station life. 

It was in the early days of the opening up of the 
Congo, and at the little station of Lulungu several 
white men had forgathered from the different parts 
of the country. There were eight of us in all, and 
we represented five different nationalities. 

A day or two previously a stock of provisions had 
arrived, comprising among other things a few demi- 
johns of Portuguese red wine. The dinner that night 
was a lengthy one, tongues wagged and brains grew 
heated. By midnight things had developed into a 
carousal, and the air was rent with drunken songs and 
shouts. It was the rainy season and the night air was 
hot and heavy, foreboding the approach of a storm. 

During a temporary lull I went forth alone, to 
seek fresh air. Never shall I forget my experience, 
for I caught the strains of a familiar hymn tune 
chanted by little children of the Mission in the val- 
ley below. As if in gentle rebuke to us they sang: 

Wonso wuna usatu a mbikulu, 
Wonso wonso bika Keza — 

(Whosoever will — 'tis life for evermore, 
Whosoever will, may come.) 

***** 

E. J. Glave was one of my close friends on the 
Congo. A strong character, he was humane and he 



246 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

was brave. He was a square man, as men understand 
the expression. His sense of humour was very keen. 
He possessed an extraordinary power of mimicry and 
he had a good ear for music. 

He was just twenty when I first knew him in Africa. 
He was quick to learn the native language, and so 
remarkable was his sense of sound that it was diffi- 
cult to distinguish his voice from that of the natives. 
This quality, combined with his apt gestures and 
natural sympathy for Africans, made him unusually 
popular among natives. 

Always in high spirits, it was a positive delight to 
be in his company; he sang well, particularly light 
negro melodies, accompanying himself upon an old, 
worn banjo, the parchment and strings of which were 
of his own manufacture. 

The spirit of adventure was very strong in him, and 
he was perpetually in action. He had a large experi- 
ence of big-game shooting, and more than once his 
steady nerve preserved his life from a charging buffalo. 

We were near of an age. We both shared the same 
sympathetic views regarding the natives. Another 
bond that drew us together was our mutual love of 
adventure. We were neither of us prompted to seek 
either riches or fame. Entirely regardless of the 
future, we enjoyed every moment of the present, al- 
though I must admit that some moments were vastly 
more enjoyable than others. 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 247 

After serving six years in two periods on the Congo, 
Glave returned to England in 1889. 

The methods of Belgian rule on the Congo met 
with Glave's disapproval, and he turned his attention 
to new fields of adventure. He travelled in Alaska, 
and I believe I am right in stating that his name will 
survive among those of the early pioneers of the 
Yukon. 

The glamour of Africa, however, was in his heart. 
Ice and snow and the search for gold were not to 
Glave's taste. Returning to Africa in 1893, Glave 
entered the continent from the east, and with no 
companions except a small party of natives, he pene- 
trated to the little known regions around Lake Bang- 
weolo, and visited the spot where Dr. Livingstone 
died. During his journey he experienced many 
hardships, and was an eye-witness of many horrors 
in connection with slave caravans. 

His journey across Africa completed, and his 
effects already stowed on board a homeward-bound 
steamer from the Congo, Glave, stricken by fever, 
died on the eve of sailing. 

He was a good man, and he died among good 
men, in the Baptist mission station of Tunduwa. 

Probably under no other circumstances could men 
become better acquainted with the various phases of 
each other's character than when campaigning to- 



248 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

gether in the depths of a barbarous country. Under 
such conditions the true disposition of a comrade soon 
becomes apparent. A man's courage or tendency 
towards faint-heartedness are soon betrayed. Living 
for an uncertain period in a condition of semi-starva- 
tion and constant worry proves a man's mettle in 
the quickest and surest way. 

When, added to such physical discomfort and 
privation, we consider the influence of a malignant 
climate, which affects the spleen and liver, which 
racks the frame with burning fever or exhausting 
dysentery, which dispels sleep and fills the disordered 
mind with morbid thoughts, and which engenders 
violent angry passions, it may be understood that no 
man can act a part: all men must perforce reveal 
their latent qualities, good and bad. 

The period of trials and sufferings at length comes 
to a conclusion with the home-coming; the remnants 
of the worn-out kit are thrust aside ; the scene changes, 
and where all was squalid, dark, and unwholesome, 
all becomes fresh and pleasing. It is a complete 
transition from the condition of physical misery to 
that of mental enjoyment; and in this latter experi- 
ence we find the details of African life gradually 
fading away, leaving a strong, clear line-drawing in 
place of the former complete picture. This power- 
ful outline of past experiences becomes still more 
deeply defined as years pass by and when death 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 249 

removes those with whom one shared the fortunes 
of the past. 

As an episode bearing upon the remarkable fas- 
cination that African life, with all its disadvantages, 
exercises over the minds of those who have once 
tasted it, I may quote the sentiments of De Kuyper, 
who, after spending twenty years on the coast of 
Africa, started for home, to visit the land of his 
youth. Arriving after a few days at San Thome, 
an island on the Equator, lying off Gaboon, he said : 

"I want to go back. I've had enough of Europe." 

The Congo pioneers were, as I have already 
stated, men representing many different European 
nationalities. The natives, who gathered in groups 
by the wayside to take their first view of white men, 
gazed in utter bewilderment upon the passing cara- 
vans, under the command of flaxen-haired North- 
erners and swarthy Southerners. 

They were an extraordinary lot, these young 
would-be explorers of all nations. The strange 
episodes, the picturesque romances, or the shady 
transactions that may have been associated with 
their past lives, were known only to the individuals 
themselves, and, as if by a mutual understanding, no 
personal questions were ever asked. 



250 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

In those early days the forerunners of civilisation — 
if they might so be styled — entered among the Pagan 
negroes full of high ambition and enthusiasm. Later 
on, one saw German barons of ancient lineage, Italian 
nobles, and distinguished Austrian officers, building 
mud huts and planting maize for sustenance. 

It was always the same story : each man's calendar 
showed the days marked off with scrupulous care, 
and the one topic of conversation alike among men 
of all nationalities was of the departure from Africa 
and the return to the comforts of civilisation. 

As the weary months passed, many sickened and 
died, preys to privation and fever. A few of the 
hardiest survived long enough to complete their term 
of service and to embark for home. But they were 
generally jaundiced and broken in health. 

In the meantime other consignments of advent- 
urers would arrive, and there continued a perpetual 
immigration. 

Most of these men were in the prime of life, and 
the majority were physically fit. But the mortality 
was great, far greater perhaps than has been re- 
corded in the opening up of any new country. 

It is a sad reflection when one thinks of the num- 
bers who have fallen by the way. But very few in- 
deed of the original band are now alive. Among the 
many hundreds of men I associated with, I very much 
doubt if at this date there remain twelve survivors. 




Photograph by Rowland Ward, Ltd. 



Congo arms 

In the Author's collection 



STORIES OF WHITE MEN 251 

One thinks of the loving parents who endeav- 
oured to picture to themselves the romance of life 
in Africa: the mighty Congo River, picturesque and 
stately savages, graceful palms and luxuriant veg- 
etation, all illumined by a bright tropical sun. In 
how many homes there still exists a cherished packet 
of letters, the envelopes marked "Central Africa, 
stamps not procurable;" written with pale, diluted 
ink upon different sized sheets of paper, blotted and 
blurred, full of puzzling native names of places not 
marked on the map; occasional erratic sentences 
and incoherent allusions to unknown persons and 
events. Whole pages written in a spirit of ex- 
pectancy and hopefulness of returning home. 

Of the graves of my former companions, just 
mounds of earth, all over-grown by tall rank grass 
and brambles; there is no one there to distinguish 
them. 

One of the most agreeable memories of my life in 
Central Africa is the recollection of the kindness of 
the missionaries. Careless and thoughtless, I was at 
first touched by their ready hospitality; the pot of 
jam and the tin of sweet biscuits, rare luxuries they 
always were, tasted doubly sweet when eaten in their 
company, in the restful and wholesome atmosphere 
of their African home. Later on, my nature grew 
more serious, and I regarded the missionaries from 



252 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

another standpoint. I understood them better and I 
experienced an ever-increasing feeling of respect for 
those men who devoted their lives to the Africans. 
They were, all of them that I met, good men; gentle 
and kind and ever ready to sacrifice themselves 
for others. Their influence was all for good. This 
brief tribute to the memory of such men seems ab- 
surdly inadequate and ill expressed, but it is never- 
theless sincere and intended to express my gratitude 
and my respect. 



CONGO CHARACTERISTICS 

Central Africa may be regarded as a vast table- 
land slightly depressed towards the centre, and from 
periods more or less remote the three great river 
systems, as represented by the Nile, the Congo, and 
the Zambesi, by the constant wearing away of their 
river-beds have drained this region, which we know 
was once a vast lake, or succession of lakes, inter- 
sected by forest-clad islands. 

Reference to this inland sea, as it may be termed, 
was made as long ago as 500 B. C. by Herodotus. 

The mouth of the Congo River was discovered in 
1485 by Diego Cam, a Portuguese navigator, whilst 
in search of a sea route to the Indies. But nothing 
whatever was known of the course of this mighty 
river until the year 1877 — the series of formidable 
cataracts commencing some hundred miles from its 
mouth having proved an insurmountable obstacle to 
its exploration. 

The great problems of Africa have, within the last 
sixty years, changed their form; the geographical 
problems which puzzled former generations have 

253 



254 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

now all been solved, and the new problems bear 
upon the development and regeneration of its pop- 
ulation. 

In this vast and densely populated country there 
is much diversity in the mental condition and general 
mode of living prevalent among native tribes inhabit- 
ing different localities; but one is more particularly 
impressed by the wide dissimilarity in disposition ex- 
isting between the inhabitants of the open country of 
the Lower Congo and the forest dwellers of the far 
interior. 

It is difficult at the present time to definitely ac- 
count for these variations of character, owing to our 
absolute lack of knowledge of native history; but hav- 
ing as an accounted fact that they are not aboriginal, 
we must naturally infer that admixture with former 
races, combined with the phenomena of environment, 
represent the main elements of influence to which 
these variations of character are to be attributed. 
Typically, the present native inhabitants of the Congo 
region, to which I refer, are closely allied to the ne- 
gro race. The distinctive features however consist 
in a warm-toned skin, and small, well-proportioned 
though slightly flat hands and feet. But the promi- 
nent brow-ridge, the flat, broad nose and everted 
lips, small eyes, long arms and bowed legs, in more 
or less decided forms, are characteristic, although in 
many individual cases the negro type is in no way 




mm 



Photograph by Rowland Ward, Ltd. 



Congo arms 

In the Author's collection 



CONGO CHARACTERISTICS 255 

pronounced. The men's hair appears to be more 
luxuriant than the women's, and it is very rare to see 
any hair upon the face of the Congo natives. Their 
eyes are generally bloodshot, a peculiarity that is 
probably due to their sleeping in smoke-filled huts. 

Among the native tribes of the Congo basin there 
exists no history of any kind. There is no written 
language, no tradition of the past, and no indication 
of an attempt to perpetuate any epoch in their lives 
by means of earth or stone erections. Thus con- 
fronted with insurmountable difficulties in the way of 
tribal classification, language is the only guide we 
have to depend upon in determining racial affinities. 
The languages spoken by the native inhabitants of 
the Congo basin are nearly all of the same grammat- 
ical structure, one of the most remarkable features of 
which is the alliterative concord. The various tribes 
of the Congo are for the most part allied to the great 
Bantu group, the most extensive of all African racial 
divisions. 

The country of the Lower Congo, and more par- 
ticularly of the cataract region, is composed of low 
hill ranges, savannahs, and fertile valleys; the forest 
growth is principally confined to the alluvial deposits 
of the ravines. The seasons are well defined, and 
rain is plentiful. 

There are certain places on the Lower Congo 
where the glimpses of tangled coils of virgin wood- 



256 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

land are beautiful in the extreme, fully realising the 
ideal pictures of tropical forest grandeur. 

The natives reside in small unprotected villages, 
which are generally situated on hill-tops, and exist 
under the nominal government of petty chiefs. Few 
villages contain five hundred inhabitants; but as all 
the crests of the hills in some localities are covered 
with the neatly constructed thatched huts of the 
natives, the population throughout the area is con- 
siderable. 

The majority of the natives of these tribes are in a 
condition of serfdom, a condition arising principally 
from mutual indebtedness. In disposition they are 
mild-tempered and inoffensive. Cannibalism is an 
unknown practice among the inhabitants of the Lower 
Congo. The trading instinct is largely developed, 
and is exercised in bartering produce and commodi- 
ties in the local markets. They are not warlike. 

The prevailing characteristic of the Lower Congo 
tribes is superstition. Their lives and minds are 
swayed by charm-doctors, who possess an almost 
infinite power over the people. These charm-doctors 
are invariably shrewd and crafty men, exceeding 
their kinsmen in mental capacity. They exercise 
supreme power in the settlement of all local matters. 
Superstition is, of course, an indigenous and strongly 
pronounced element in African human nature, but 
the natives of the Lower Congo region are wholly 




Photograph by Row'and Ward, Ltd. 



Congo implements 

In the Author's collection 



CONGO CHARACTERISTICS 257 

and absolutely devoted to fetichism in all its many 
phases. Their life's object is the appeasing and 
propitiating of the Evil Spirit, and the persuading of 
all natural powers to their good. 

The Lower Congo tribes are not progressive; their 
spirit of progress being curbed and crushed by the 
ever-present fear of exciting the cupidity of the 
charm-doctors. The ferocious impulse is almost ab- 
sent; only upon the occasion of their fanatical pas- 
sions being aroused do they display cruel savage 
instincts. 

They are attached to their villages, their planta- 
tions, and their markets. This attachment and love 
of possession deters them from risking their lives 
and property by waging war upon their neighbours. 
They are satisfied with a rural pastoral life, in a 
beautiful fertile country. Relieved from the anxi- 
ety of fighting for existence and lacking the am- 
bition of conquest, they are contented to live in 
idleness. 

After following the Congo River six hundred miles 
into the interior, we find the country consists mainly 
of a vast forest swamp. In these regions beyond 
the cataracts of the Lower Congo, as far as Stanley 
Falls, the land is seldom more than a few feet 
above the level of the river. Through this primeval 
forest swamp flows the great Congo River, attain- 
ing an occasional breadth of many miles, impeded 



258 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

in places by sand-banks and shallows, its broad 
surface being thickly veined by narrow wooded isl- 
ets. The wildest aspect of nature is here dis- 
played, in the form of tropical exuberance of foliage, 
beneath the canopy of which all is sunless gloom 
and damp decay. Immense trees with dense foli- 
age, draped from the topmost boughs with orchilla 
weed and fungi, and graceful creepers hanging in 
festoons, animated sometimes by troops of gay chat- 
tering monkeys, at other times silent and still ex- 
cept for the hoarse croaking of frogs or the cracking 
of undergrowth, when a ponderous elephant passes 
by. The rainfall is excessive, and there is no dry 
season. Torrential rains and tropical tornadoes 
sweep over these regions at frequent intervals. The 
intense heat, due to the bi-annual vertical sun act- 
ing upon this gigantic area of vegetation, constitutes 
an ever-fermenting hotbed, which is charged with 
unwholesome noxious vapours, and teems with in- 
sect life. The predominating colour throughout this 
country is a dull olive green, relieved only here and 
there by the complementary colour, red, which is 
supplied by bunches of berries and warm-coloured 
leaves. 

We are now in the great forest region ; and in pass- 
ing to the far interior we may glance at the condition 
and surroundings of two populous and influential 
tribes, the Bakundu and the Bangala. These two 




^^p^ 




Fighting knives, Kasai 

In the collection of the Author 




Ribba fighting knife 

Native knives in the collection 
of the Author 



CONGO CHARACTERISTICS 259 

tribes may be considered to represent links connect- 
ing the pastoral trading tribes of the Lower Congo 
with the grosser savage tribes who dwell in the heart 
of the forest region within a hundred-mile radius of 
Stanley Falls. In point of enterprise, tractability, 
and perhaps even in general physique, the tribes of 
the Bakundu and the Bangala stand preeminent 
among all the Congo population, and they may be 
said to represent the finest types of the Western 
branch of the Bantu race. The members of these 
tribes possess remarkable shrewdness. They are 
warlike, active and industrious. The element of 
superstition is less complicated and extravagant in its 
observances; the material aspect of life apparently 
offering more attraction to these people than the 
intricate mysteries of the spiritual phase. Here, the 
charm-doctor's power is limited; his influence is 
exercised with people whose disposition is more mar- 
tial than credulous. The tribal and individual supe- 
riority of the Bakundu and the Bangala is obviously 
due, in a great measure, to the strategic position of 
their villages, whereby they were enabled for many 
years to monopolise trade. Residing midway be- 
tween the trading tribes below them, and the more 
primitive savage tribes whence slaves and ivory 
were at the time procurable, they constituted a com- 
munity of middlemen, or more correctly speaking, 
pirates, for they preyed upon their feebler neighbours 



260 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

and disposed of the products of their piratical trans- 
actions to the trading tribes. 

As a natural consequence it follows in the first 
place that these two tribes have awakened to the 
advantage of cohesion, a quality singularly lacking 
among the Congo people, and their natural ferocity 
has become organised into a warlike spirit; and 
secondly, in the process of dealing with the more 
enlightened trading tribes below them, their natural 
intelligence has become developed. 

As a typical forest tribe, dwelling absolutely in the 
heart of the forest region and entirely outside the 
sphere of all foreign influence, the Waluheli, of the 
Aruimi district, will serve as an example. 

Here the rule is strictly applied that the weak shall 
fall and the strong predominate. It is in the condi- 
tions of life of such a tribe that we meet with the 
clearest demonstration of the influence of environ- 
ment. The Waluheli are typical savages, who illus- 
trate the various phases of degeneracy to which 
mankind can sink when exposed to an unpropitious 
condition of surroundings. 

Cannibalism is a regular practice. Human flesh 
is an article of diet. The facial and cranial type, 
particularly of the women, is low. They live in a 
condition of perpetual warfare. 

The tribal union rarely lasts through more than 
a few generations. The ferocious impulse is here 




Ngombe 





Aruimi 




Aruimi 

Three native hats 



CONGO CHARACTERISTICS 261 

clearly apparent; and treachery, in the sense for 
instance of sudden night attacks or cunning artifice, 
is a powerful element in their character. Trade in 
this region is limited to bartering transactions in 
slaves, ivory, and native iron ore. 

The men are generally possessed of fine phy- 
sique, though they are ill-proportioned. They have 
well-developed chests, thick necks, but somewhat 
short thin legs. They are exceedingly active and 
alert. 

Beyond their iron fighting knives and spears, 
wooden stools, and a few clay cooking-pots, they 
have no possessions. Their huts, roughly built of 
grass stalks and plaited palm leaves, are but the 
temporary structures of nomad tribes. Their plan- 
tations of manioc are seldom of adequate extent. 
They appear to possess no definite creed, beyond 
the belief that the spirits of their deceased kinsmen 
return to the world in the form of trees. They 
believe that for women there is no future life. Every 
man is a natural tyrant. There can scarcely be said 
to exist a distinctive tribal type; the communities 
being largely composed of tribal remnants. To this 
latter circumstance — the constant admixture of blood 
— may be attributed their remarkable reproductive 
power. 

Within the limits of their own experience, the Wa- 
uheli and kindred tribes may be considered intelli- 



262 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

gent, as the ingenious fashion of their weapons will 
testify. 

Their lives are as wild and unchecked as the tan- 
gled growth of their primaeval forest homes. There 
is nothing to occupy or to stimulate the mind, which 
lives, thinks, and acts for the moment. They possess 
a faculty of indifference, the obvious outcome of the 
precariousness of their lives. 

When not fighting for bare existence, their minds 
are focussed upon methods of satisfying their animal 
wants. Despite the present condition of these forest 
tribes, there yet remain signs of a former condition 
of superiority. A world of human nature lies hid- 
den beneath their dark, forbidding exteriors. Upon 
many occasions I have had revealed to me evidences 
of humane and tender feelings. 

In taking a hasty leave of these children of the 
forest, we must refer to the influence of their envi- 
ronment as an excuse for their shortcomings. Their 
eyes are never refreshed by a distant view, and there 
is no bright sunshine in their country to gladden 
their hearts, for the sun's rays seldom or never pene- 
trate the eternal forest gloom in which they spend 
their lives. 

With danger lurking behind the trunk of every 
tree, and with an ever-present fear of capture and 
death, they live their days and years; they pass 
through periods of modified joys and sorrows, know- 



CONGO CHARACTERISTICS 263 

ing nothing of the outside world, living without hope 
and without regrets. 

Nothing is lasting in their lives — the keenest heart- 
ache, the bitterest grief, is soon forgotten. They live 
only for the present, without prospect or retrospect. 
The wild, dark woods, weird and desolate, form the 
environment of the Waluheli forest dwellers and the 
Waluheli savage bears the undeniable impress of 
their influence. 



LANGUAGE 

Among the native tribes of the Congo basin there 
exists no form of history. There is no written lan- 
guage. They have no signs or characters; no tradi- 
tion, and no memorials of the past. It is as though 
an opaque curtain hung behind the living genera- 
tion, concealing everything that passed before their 
time. It is considered a bad omen to allude to any 
one who is dead. Such an allusion is only made by 
accident, and is immediately redeemed by a snap- 
ping of the fingers. 

Confronted thus with insurmountable difficulties 
in the way of tribal classification, it becomes neces- 
sary to depend upon language as the one chief guide 
in determining racial boundaries and affinities. 

The languages spoken by the native inhabitants 
of the Congo basin are all of the same grammatical 
structure; and philologically the Congo tribes are for 
the most part allied to the great Bantu group; one 
of the most extensive of the African racial divisions. 

The languages, more particularly the Kikongo, are 
rich and liquid, and contain a preponderance of vow- 

264 



LANGUAGE 265 

els. The beauty and plastic form of these languages 
is noticeable, suggesting the softness of Italian, the 
grace of French, and the precision of English. 

The Bantu languages spoken by the Congo tribes 
are distinct from each other; broadly speaking they 
differ in somewhat the same degree as French is 
distinct from Italian. Were we permitted to study 
the mother-tongue of the Bantu languages, we should 
in all probability find the present languages allied 
to the mother-tongue in somewhat the same degree 
as French and Italian are allied to the original Latin. 

The most natural peculiarity of the language is the 
prevailing use of pre-fixes, in place of suffixes, and 
an alliteration which amounts almost to rhyme. It 
is interesting to remember that this euphonious pe- 
culiarity is also found in early English. 

Soft, pliant, and musical, the language is governed 
by an alliterative concord. There are but few con- 
sonants, of which in the Lower Congo language the 
letter "f " is the most frequently met with. In fact, 
the missionaries in setting up type to print their trans- 
lations of the Scriptures into Kikongo, had to send 
home an order for an extra stock of that letter. 

Among leading tribesmen an archaic form of lan- 
guage appears to be known in certain districts, but 
this would apply principally to the tribes living in 
the open country towards the coast. In the far inte- 
rior the question of languages becomes intricate. 



266 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Even the merest allusion to them would necessitate a 
deal of technical explanation. 1 

Their language is pictorial, but it is deficient in 
words to express noble or generous sentiments. In 
fact no expression exists in any of their languages 
representing such sentiments as gratitude or thanks. 
Every name is a proper name. There are no such 
words as "solids" or "fluids," "plants" or "ani- 
mals." To like and to want or desire, are synony- 
mous terms in their language. 

It has been said that oratory constitutes the ne- 
gro's one fine art. The same statement may be 
aptly applied to the Bantu tribes of the Congo, leav- 
ing aside for the moment the ingenuity and decora- 
tive faculty displayed by the latter race in ironwork. 
The Congo natives of all tribes are naturally eloquent 
and ready speakers. They are also adepts in the 
use of metaphor. They reason clearly, and are 
ready debaters. The sonorous effect of their speech 
is greatly aided by the soft inflections and the moist 
euphony of their language. 

Among many of the Upper Congo tribes it is a 
common practice at a public meeting for the speaker 

1 The most complete information hitherto published upon this subject, 
as well as upon Congo matters in general, is contained in Sir Harry John- 
ston's valuable work, "George Grenfell and the Congo" (Hutchinson 
& Co). Mr. George Babington Michell, at present H. M. Consul at 
Paris, with upwards of nineteen years' experience in Northern and 
Central Africa, has studied and compiled several native vocabularies, 
which should prove of the utmost value to the student of African 
languages. 



* 




o t 
§"2 



LANGUAGE 267 

to hold in his left hand a number of small sticks, 
generally of split cane, each piece of wood represent- 
ing a pre-considered point of his argument. These 
points are subsequently enumerated and emphasised 
by the speaker selecting and placing one of these 
sticks upon the ground in front of him. 

It is customary for a Congo native in making an 
important speech upon personal matters, to com- 
mence by referring to incidents which happened in 
his earliest recollection, and in this manner to refer 
to every favourable incident in his career, paying no 
regard as to their applicability. 

When speaking in his defence, upon being charged 
with committing a breach of the native laws, a Congo 
native will systematically refer to the good actions 
of his past life, and the evil actions in the lives of 
his accusers ; in this manner he will seek to prejudice 
the judicial authorities in his favour. 

As a slight illustration of the difficulties of the lan- 
guage, I recollect my endeavours to learn the native 
words for counting. I commenced with small sticks, 
but the word which I wrote to represent the first 
numeral, I subsequently found was the native word 
for a piece of wood. Pointing to my thumb in my 
second attempt, I was duly told a certain word. 
Indicating my first finger I was told another word. 
I now considered that I had ascertained the words 
representing one and two. Once more I failed, for 



268 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

I had gathered the words for "thumb" and "fin- 
ger," instead of the desired numerals. 

They generally count by fives, counting the fingers 
on one hand and the fingers on the other; then the 
toes on one foot and on the other. They signify ten 
by closing one hand. And then, making a mark on 
the ground, they recommence with the fingers of the 
hand. 

As an illustration of the redundancy of syllables, 
in the language spoken by the Waluheli, the first five 
numerals run as follows: 1, Unjundu; 2, Mamio- 
mabinga; 3, Nambongo; 4, Egbongane; 5, Ibomoti; 
this last word literally meaning a hand of five fingers. 
It is scarcely necessary to remark that in this dis- 
trict there was but little commercial activity. 

The Congo languages have been described as ono- 
matopoeic, a word which may be defined as repre- 
senting a system of coining words from sound. For 
example, in the same manner that our children say 
"Puff-puff" to indicate a train, so the African sav- 
ages will use the word " Watamba tamba" to describe 
men who march in large bodies in imitation of the 
sound of their footsteps. "Watuku tuku" was also 
coined by them to designate white men, because they 
associated them with the sound of the engines of 
their river steamers. The first syllable "Wa" in 
each case represents the plural prefix denoting people. 

The right hand is called the male, and the left 




Fetish, Lower Congo, used for registering vows 

In the collection of the Author 



LANGUAGE 269 

hand the female. With Zanzibaris the influence of 
the East is very apparent : when steering a boat they 
will say: "Pull with the hand you eat with" — indicat- 
ing a direction to the right, their expressions to 
denote the right and left hand being Mkono akulia 
and Mkono washoto. 

It is a fact worthy of remark that the first sound a 
Central African baby utters, like our own babies, is 
the word "Mamma." This same word "Mamma" 
I have heard uttered on more than one occasion by 
wounded Africans as a last dying articulation. 



SUPERSTITION 

Superstition is a strongly pronounced element in 
the lives of the native tribes of the Congo region. 
In the open country of the cataract region particu- 
larly, the native tribes are much involved in fetichism 
and in propitiating the evil spirit, which is esteemed 
by them as a mysterious power for evil, man's mortal 
enemy. The rites and ceremonies, imposed with a 
view of propitiating the supernatural powers, become 
somewhat weaker in the observance among tribes 
inhabiting the forest region of the far interior. 

The Congo natives being ignorant of the laws of 
Nature, laws which remain to them a constant source 
of mystery, maladies and unpleasant experiences of 
all kinds are ascribed by them to the influence of 
evil spirits. Life is passed in a condition of constant 
dread. All that is unaccountable to the native mind 
is at once enveloped with the property of magic. 
All ills and misfortunes are supposed to emanate 
from the evil spirit. 

Their lives are apparently darkened by a dread, 
the terrors of which are unknown to less supersti- 
tious races. 

270 





1 1* 




SUPERSTITION 271 

The Congo natives may be said to have religious 
conception without religion. Their active divinities 
are all evil. Theologically they are worshippers of 
the Evil Spirit, "Devil- worshippers." They admit 
the existence of a Good Spirit, "Nzambi," but the 
powers of this good spirit are supposed to be en- 
tirely passive. 

In the witchcraft practised by the Congo natives, 
we have an exemplification of that primitive sorcery 
which is said to be a remnant of the ancient Nature- 
worship which existed in the earliest days of man- 
kind. 

There exists a universal belief in a future exist- 
ence; the circumstance of the future life varying 
according to different tribal beliefs. 

Death is regarded in the light of a migration. 

The Congo native's creeds are in harmony with 
his intellect; puzzled by the mysteries of life, he is 
always ready to accept unhesitatingly the wildest 
theory to account for natural events. 

The majority of tribes possess one or more charm- 
doctors, by whom their lives and actions are almost 
wholly swayed. The extravagant observances and 
preposterous ordinances, which figure so prominently 
in native life, are functions introduced by the pro- 
fessional charm-doctors, with a view of mystifying 
their credulous followers, and in order to conceal the 
limit of their pretended power over evil influences. 



272 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

The charm-doctor's ascendency and dominion over 
others is principally derived from the sentiment of 
respect and uncertainty with which his mystic power 
is regarded. 

The charm-doctor is considered to be the connect- 
ing link between ordinary mortals and the mysterious 
powers and spirits. The influence of the sorcerers is 
directly opposed to all principles of progress ; for ex- 
ample: should a man by natural shrewdness, or by 
personal energy, accumulate native riches in the 
form of slaves, guns, or trade cloth, the charm- 
doctor would publicly accuse him of sorcery, with 
the probable consequence that he would be killed 
and his goods divided. 

In the event of the death of any person of impor 
tance (Lower Congo), a charm-doctor is called to 
discover the person guilty of having exercised an evil 
influence; for among most Congo tribes death is 
never regarded in the light of a natural event. In 
most cases an old person or a slave is accused and 
forthwith secured, and at an appointed time is sub- 
mitted to a poison ordeal. A decoction is prepared 
from a poisonous bark ("N'Kassa"), which is admin- 
istered to the victim at sunrise. 

If, during the day, the potion acts as an emetic, 
this fact is accepted as a proof of innocence. If, on 
the other hand, the poison acts as a purgative, the 
victim is strangled, and the body is thrown in a river. 



t_ 




Manyema 



Manyema 

Hardwood of great 




Lower Congo Lower Congo 

Idols in the collection of the Author 



SUPERSTITION 273 

In the latter case the action of the test is accepted as 
a proof of guilt, and the natives, by killing the victim, 
are satisfied that an evil spirit has been exterminated. 

The Babangi and kindred tribes (Upper Congo) 
believe that evil-disposed persons have the power of 
changing themselves into reptiles and savage animals 
in order to take life. 

"N'Kimba" or "Fua-Kongo" is the title of a 
peculiar rite, the practice of which is principally con- 
fined to the tribes inhabiting the cataract region of 
the Lower Congo. When the elders of a village con- 
sider that the women are not bearing the usual pro- 
portion of children, they proclaim an "N'Kimba." 
The charm-doctors, and other active agents of the 
rite, take up quarters in an isolated forest, where 
they are soon joined by numbers of voluntary ini- 
tiates. Boys and men of any age are eligible, as also 
are girls, and women who have not yet borne a child. 

Upon entering the "N'Kimba" the body of the 
initiate is painted with white chalk. A complicated 
form of language is adopted. The initiate is sup- 
posed to die, and to be resurrected, and to have 
entered upon a new life. 

At the conclusion of the "N'Kimba," which usually 
lasts five or six years, the members of the craft take 
a new name, and pretend to have forgotten their 
former life, and do not recognise their parents and 
friends. Through after life there exists a bond of 



274 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

union between individuals who have been members 
of this strange and secret fraternity. 

Health is identified with the word "Moyo," spirit 
(Lower Congo), and in cases of wasting sickness, 
the "Moyo" is supposed to have wandered away 
from the sufferer. In these cases a search-party is 
sometimes led by a charm-doctor, and branches, land 
shells, or stones are collected. The charm-doctor 
will then perform a series of passes between the 
sick man and the collected articles. This ceremony 
is called "vutulanga moyo" (the returning of the 
spirit) . 

A common belief is prevalent (Lower Congo) to 
the effect that a man's "moyo" (spirit) can be stolen 
from his body, and consumed by an enemy. 

In the event of a sick man dreaming twice of a 
particular individual a suspicion is aroused, and the 
individual who has figured in the ailing man's dreams 
is liable to be accused of consuming his "Moyo" 
(Lower Congo). 

It is an evil omen for a man to point at another 
with his finger; ill-fortune is said to be transmitted 
by so doing. 

It is customary for all Congo natives to believe in 
omens. Certain birds and animals are supposed to 
represent good and evil influences. The owl, for 
example, is known to the Babangi (Upper Congo) 
as "the evil spirit's spy." 




The idol-maker 

From a bronze statue by the Author 



SUPERSTITION 275 

Throughout the Congo region the natives have a 
superstitious objection to talk of a deceased person. 
In the event of their doing so, it is customary to use 
the past tense of the verb "to live" ("widi") before 
his or her name. If this be omitted, the anger of the 
deceased's relations or friends is immediately aroused. 
When a person dies and is buried in the ground, all 
danger of the deceased being exposed to the caprices 
of this evil spirit are at an end ; and even to mention 
the deceased's name is considered an unkind action. 

Wooden images of human shape, are common 
among the Congo tribes, and more particularly among 
the inhabitants of the Lower Congo. These are 
generally carved in more or less fantastic shapes, 
by the charm-doctors, by whom they are sold, as 
representing certain peculiar properties, and with 
power to avert evil and misfortune. 

If the images subsequently fail to justify the virtues 
ascribed to them by the vender, they are either 
promptly re-sold to another, more credulous, or they 
are disfigured and cut to pieces in angry disap- 
pointment. 

It is a common custom of the Lower Congo for 
natives to record an oath by driving a splinter of 
hard wood or a piece of iron into the chief's big 
image. The oath is considered binding as long as 
the splinter or nail is allowed to remain in the image. 



276 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Those wooden images are called "nkissi" (witch- 
craft charms), and much ingenuity is displayed in 
their carving. The faces are frequently endowed 
with expression, and often the physical character- 
istics of a tribe are effectively portrayed. 



IN GENERAL 

Customs 

When taking into consideration the great diversity 
of mental condition, and the general modes of liv- 
ing which exist between tribes who form the popula- 
tion of the Congo Region, it is difficult to present 
more than a few bald facts to illustrate a few of 
the more important of the native customs. 

The natives of the Congo region are divided into 
clans, tribes, and small communities under the nom- 
inal government of chieftains and headmen. The 
clans are distinguished by difference of types, lan- 
guage, decoration, weapons, and, in the case of the 
Upper Congo tribes, by the various cicatrised designs 
upon their faces and bodies. 

Hereditary chieftainship seldom exists, although in 
cases where blood succession is observed, the eldest 
son of the chiefs sister, his sister by the same mother, 
is accepted as the heir. By this method a continu- 
ance of the same blood is assured. 

Old people are seldom to be met with; they are 
either sacrificed at witchcraft ordeals, or are allowed 

277 



278 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

to starve, when by reason of their age they are un- 
able to provide for themselves. 

Cases of suicide occasionally occur, and are attrib- 
uted to the emotion of anger. 

Evidences of symbolism are occasionally to be met 
with, as in the case of a Bololo chief who sent his 
own spear to Glave, to signify that he needed his 
assistance in war. 

Time is reckoned by the moon. The Aruimi 
tribes signify the time of day by measuring off por- 
tions of their left thumb, the middle joint signifying 
noon. 

No record is kept of birth or age. The Congo 
natives have no appreciation of the value of time. 

They are inherent gamblers, and will frequently 
stake their own freedom on the chances of a game. 

Several tribes of the Upper Congo, notably the 
Babangi of Bolobo, have been known to celebrate the 
occasion of the settlement of a political dispute be- 
tween rival chieftains by the sacrifice of a slave as an 
indication of their seriousness. Upon such occasions 
the victim was tortured by having his arms and legs 
broken. He was then buried in a hole up to his neck, 
at the junction of two village paths, and here was 
left to die a lingering death. 

Astonishment is expressed by placing the hand 
over the open mouth and elevating the eyebrows. 
Placing the first finger upon the eyelid and uttering 



o 



Metal collar, Malinsra River 




"Molua" metal collar 




Aruimi metal anklet iron 

In the collection of the Author 



IN GENERAL 279 

the word "Nyo" signifies the negative (Babangi). 
In speaking upon a momentous question, the nega- 
tive is usually pronounced at the conclusion of the 
sentence. 

Breaking a stick, and cutting a bunch of leaves 
into two portions, are common methods of expressing 
satisfaction and the sealing of a bargain. In the 
Babwende tribe (Lower Congo) passing the open 
left hand across the open mouth from left to right, 
emitting at the same time a puff of air, signifies the 
settlement of any matter. A precisely similar gest- 
ure with certain Upper Congo tribes denotes an 
expression of truthfulness. 

In lieu of openly laughing at a companion's short- 
comings, the Congo natives usually utter a derisive 
howl, and tap their mouths with their open hand. 

Whatever may be the inner promptings of their 
hearts, the Congo natives display but little sym- 
pathetic feeling or unselfishness. It is considered a 
sign of weakness for either man or woman to express 
emotion. 



Ti n'deko, as it is called at Bangala (blood brother- 
hood), is a ceremony in common practice throughout 
the greater part of the Congo region, more especially 
among the tribes of the Upper Congo. It is a form of 
cementing friendship, and a guarantee of good faith 



280 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

between chieftains that is oftentimes respected even 
by the most unscrupulous. The ceremony even par- 
takes of religious significance. An incision is made 
in the right arms of the two contracting parties, and 
as the blood flows, powdered potash is sprinkled upon 
the wounds; the master of ceremonies at the same 
time delivers a speech, the object of which is to recall 
the seriousness of mixing blood in brotherhood, and 
the importance of maintaining the sanctity of the 
sacred contract. The two arms are then rubbed 
together, so that the flowing blood intermingles, and 
both parties are then publicly proclaimed to be 
brothers of one and the same blood. In some tribes 
the blood of each party is mixed together and placed 
in a broad leaf, together with a sprinkling of mys- 
terious powder. The leaf is then rolled cigar-wise 
and cut into two portions, each portion being con- 
sumed between the two individuals who thus enter 
into the blood bond. 

The natives of the Upper Congo always become 
much excited at the sight of blood, whether it be 
blood of man or beast. 



There is an intricacy about the code of laws rec- 
ognised in Central Africa which completely baffles 
all one's attempts at solution. For example, a 
native may be observed to sell his mother, even his 



IN GENERAL 281 

father, perhaps sisters or brothers, but the partic- 
ular power which enables him to carry out transac- 
tions of this kind remains a mystery. 

Condition of Women and Children 

Broadly speaking, women represent a current 
value — they are liable at any time to be sold. The 
proportion of free women is very small. A wide 
difference exists between men and women in regard 
to the occupations of daily life. Women occupy an 
inferior social position. The various gradations in 
the scale of savagery may be fitly estimated by the 
condition and treatment of women. 

In comparison with the men, women are of in- 
ferior physique, a fact obviously due to their position 
of servitude, and to the premature decay attendant 
upon their early development. The features of even 
quite young women often bear tokens of stress and 
strain. 

Proceeding inland from the coast, in point of gen- 
eral physique, the male type improves; the female 
type however is higher near the coast. Far inland, 
the female type is much lower than that of the male. 
Throughout the entire Congo population, women 
cultivate the soil, provide and cook food, collect fire- 
wood, and attend to all domestic matters. 

Girls are held to be marriageable between the 
ages of nine and ten. Marriage is invariably a mat- 



282 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

ter of purchase, the transaction being effected either 
with the girl's father or with the chief of the village. 
If a married woman dies before giving birth to a 
child, the husband has the right to demand from 
the deceased woman's parents or from the chief, the 
repayment of the amount of the purchase-money. 

The extraordinary virility of the Central African 
races may be ascribed to the following principal rea- 
sons: Firstly, to the plurality of women, for gener- 
ally speaking one finds the number of women is 
greatly in excess of the male population, the reason 
for this being that men are so frequently killed in 
their incessant intertribal battles. It necessarily fol- 
lows that the strongest and most enterprising of 
the men is generally the owner of the most wives, 
and consequently the fittest male becomes the father 
of the most children. 

Home life does not exist. Huts are generally in 
long lines. Women and very young children dwell 
together, but the men lead a primitive club life of 
their own. They have no artificial appliances for 
comfort. There is practically no reserve or privacy 
in their lives. 

Upon the first signs of pregnancy, women retire 
to a special part of the village, which is kept apart 
from the male section of the population and which is 
called Nzo Ngudi Nkento (the house of the bearing 
women) (Lower Congo). There they remain until 




5 
3 


-t 


tf 


*5 




•c: 






^ 


•»-=. 


IM 


C 


:8 


-> 




!> s 



IN GENERAL 283 

the child is born and weaned. It is interesting to 
remark the affinity of this custom with an ancient 
Hebrew law. In connection with the isolation of 
women during the period of pregnancy and suckling, 
it should be borne in mind that they are influenced 
by the question of milk, for they have no artificial 
means of nourishing a child. During the enforced 
absence of a woman under these circumstances, 
the husband takes advantage of the law which per- 
mits him a plurality of wives, and his first wife is 
immediately supplanted by a second. 

It is a common practice for women to eat clay or 
sand at childbirth. 

Weaning is produced by smearing the breast with 
an acrid preparation. 

Twins are generally considered to be an omen of 
good, and the mother takes pride in the event. 

Deformed children are usually killed at birth. 
Albinoes are allowed to live, but they are generally 
objects of contempt and derision. 

Adultery is considered a crime, and is sometimes 
punishable by death, but in most instances the offence 
may be condoned by the payment of a fine. If 
adultery be committed within the village, both the 
man and woman are considered equally guilty; out- 
side the village boundary, however, the man only is 
held at fault. This custom again is analogous to an 
ancient Hebrew law. 



284 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Their children are like ours. The pleasures of 
the African child are the pleasures of all children. 
Their mothers coo to them and use flowery and 
endearing terms. Whilst still mere babies, after be- 
ing bathed and laid out in the sun to dry, they toddle 
about helping to catch small fish or to snare birds, 
and they play at cooking food in the burning embers 
of their mothers' fire. Little boys make miniature 
bows and arrows; they paddle miniature canoes and 
ambitiously imitate all the pursuits of grown-up peo- 
ple. They have no guiding voice to correct or to 
curb their natural animal instincts. They are the 
offspring of parents whose union was merely transi- 
tory. 

There would appear to be solid foundation in 
support of the following theory, which accounts 
for the apparent arrest of the intellectual faculties 
at an early age. Certain it is that Central Afri- 
can children are exceedingly intelligent and quick- 
witted. The subsequent arrest of the intellectual 
faculties has been attributed to the premature 
closing and subsequent ossification of the sutures 
of the skull, thus arresting the normal expansion 
of the brain. 



No record is kept of dates. Consequently natives 
are ignorant of their age. The only epochs that 



IN GENERAL 285 

remain marked in their minds are associated with 
such events as the occasion of a tribal fight or the 
killing of an elephant. 

Disease and Sickness 

The prevailing maladies to which the Congo 
natives are exposed, comprise smallpox and sleep- 
ing sickness, known as "ntolo" (Babangi) and 
"Bokono" (Bangala) : a very prevalent and fatal dis- 
ease, the nature of which has now been fully deter- 
mined. The symptoms of sleeping sickness consist 
of a pain in the spine, and an ever increasing desire 
to sleep. The sufferer generally succumbs within six 
weeks from the time he is first afflicted. 

To so great an extent is this malady dreaded, that 
the direst and most effective curse a Babangi native 
can pronounce is "waka ntolo" (may you die of 
sleep). Fever, malarious and bilious, is of frequent 
occurrence; elephantiasis, ulcers and dysentery, are 
also prevalent, this last being perhaps the most 
frequent and fatal disease. 

The crudest and most extravagant remedies are 
applied, apparently upon the principle that one ill 
drives out another. Herbal medicines are used, 
occasionally with beneficial results, but the nature of 
the herbs is kept secret by those who derive profit by 
applying them. Being ignorant even of the primary 
laws of sanitation, it is remarkable that more epi- 



286 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

demies do not ravage the country; indeed, were it 
not for the scavenging of pariah dogs, birds and in- 
sects, the cleansing rains, and high winds, life in a 
native village would be rendered intolerable. 

In the event of a person being considered to be 
afflicted by a contagious malady, I have known the 
victim to be brutally beaten to death, and his body 
bound to a tree far away from the village, generally 
on some hill-top. 

Cicatrisation 

The process of cicatrisation is universally prac- 
tised among tribes of the interior above Bolobo, 
each tribe or clan adopting a distinct cicatrised 
tribal mark — "Dikwala." At the age of four or 
five the process is first commenced, a series of inci- 
sions being cut in the skin and flesh of the face, 
breast, and abdomen, in accordance with the tribal 
design. Every few months the incisions are re-cut, 
and are filled with cam-wood powder or wood ashes. 
After frequent repetitions of this painful mutilation, 
extending over a period of years, the flesh protrudes, 
in the form of excrescent warts. 

The faces of the Balolo tribe, of the Malinga and 
Lupuri country, are much disfigured by this proc- 
ess, lumps of flesh as large as pigeon's eggs pro- 
truding on each temple, above the base of the nose, 
and upon the chin. The Bopoto and kindred tribes 



IN GENERAL 287 

are distinguished by a peculiarly elaborate system 
of cicatrisation. 

The origin of this custom as it is at present prac- 
tised would appear to be threefold : primarily, it is a 
barbaric love of decoration; secondly, the desire for 
an indisputable means of tribal identification; and 
thirdly, a means of promoting union, because all 
who are similarly marked must manifestly belong to 
the same clan. 

To this practice, which Herodotus describes as 
one of the characteristic features of the Thracians 
and Scythians, may be traced the origin of heraldry. 
Absurd as it may at first appear, the conventional 
emblems in use at the present day, the devices which 
are used upon note-paper and carriage-panels, owe 
their distant origin to the indelible tribal marks 
which were cut or punctured upon the skin of our 
early antecedents. 

Costume and Ornaments 

Although the native men and women of the Congo 
indulge in little clothing, barely sufficient in many 
cases to cover their nakedness, and in some tribes, 
the Bopoto, for example, complete nudity prevails 
among the women, yet as a race, the Congo natives 
are by no means insensible to the charms of per- 
sonal adornment. It would seem that clothing was 
first adopted as a means of decoration rather than 



288 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

from motives of decency. There exists, however, 
throughout the Congo population, a marked appre- 
ciation of the sentiment of decency and shame as 
applied to private actions. 

The costume and ornamentation prevalent with 
the Lower Congo men is principally confined to a 
grass loin cloth and the mutilation of the two incisor 
teeth of the upper jaw; the women wear a small 
apron in front and behind, suspended from a belt of 
grass cord; ear decorations of wood and metal, and 
in many instances a stick six inches long is inserted 
through a hole in the dividing cartilage of the nose. 

Among the Upper Congo natives the variety in cos- 
tume and ornamentation is more extensive. The 
men wear a strip of grass fibre cloth, or beaten bark 
(the bark of the fig tree from which the sap has been 
beaten) , suspended in front and behind from a waist 
belt. Their bodies are frequently marked with lines 
and designs of pigment; charcoal, clay, ochre and 
lime, or pipeclay and camwood constituting the basis 
of colour. 

The hair and beard are either shaved or are 
plaited, into elaborate braids and points, according to 
the tribal custom in vogue. The hair of the eyebrows 
and the eyelashes both of men and women, is invari- 
ably extracted — (a common practice also with the 
ancient Greeks and Romans). A native of the Ba- 
bangi tribe, careless of his personal appearance, and 





Head of Pigmy chief 

From the bronze by W. Goscombe John. R.A. 
In the Collection of the Author 



IN GENERAL 289 

whose eyelashes are not extracted, is dubbed "Mesu 
n'kongea" (hairy eyes). 

The finger-nails are pared and scraped to the 
quick. Among the cannibal tribes the front incisor 
teeth are chipped to points by means of an iron chisel. 

Iron anklets and bracelets, of varied weight, are 
extensively worn by both men and women. Neck- 
lets and bracelets of human teeth, dried fingers, and 
collar-bones are frequently worn in communities 
where cannibalism is practised. 

The Babangi tribes wear a massive iron or copper 
collar called "molua"; also anklets of the same 
metals. The collars weigh between 15 and 20 lbs., 
and sometimes exceed even this weight. It is no 
uncommon sight to see a native woman lying down 
in order to relieve herself of the heavy weight of 
her metal collar; and frequently these metal collars 
cause wounds on the shoulders, wounds which be- 
come ulcerous sores. Metal ornaments are consid- 
ered to enhance the value of a woman. 

I once asked a native chief at Bopoto the reason 
why the women of his district wore no costume. His 
reply in the native language is difficult to render, but 
the following was the import of what he said : — 

"Concealment makes the inquisitive hungry." 

The universal custom of anointing the body with 
a preparation of palm-oil and powdered camwood, 
a preparation which colours the skin a deep red, 



290 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

appears to be of very early origin. By this process 
the skin is to a certain extent protected against 
sudden chills. In time of war the men of most 
Upper Congo tribes blacken their faces and necks 
with palm-oil and powdered charcoal, in resemblance 
of a certain species of monkey (soko); they explain 
that by so doing they derive "monkey cunning." 

It is considered much more distinctive to wear a strip 
of European cotton cloth, no matter how filthy it may 
be, rather than their own beautifully woven grass cloth. 

Among the river-side tribes the men frequently 
wear round or conical-shaped hats, made of monkey 
skin or leopard's skin. The same fashion is occa- 
sionally observed among the tribes of the Aruimi. 
The natives who reside upon the banks of the Congo 
at the mouth of the Lomami (between Stanley Falls 
and the Aruimi) smear their hair, foreheads, and 
throats with a tar-like substance composed of palm- 
oil and charcoal. In the upper lip a circular piece 
of ivory, averaging an inch in diameter, is inserted. 

Burial Customs 

The burial rites of the Congo people vary accord- 
ing to tribal customs. 

On the Lower Congo it is customary for women 
to smear white pipe-clay across their foreheads, and 
to shave their heads; the duration of mourning 
depending on the social position of the deceased. 



IN GENERAL 291 

Graves are generally covered with broken bottles and 
broken cooking-pots, as a feature of symbolism. 

On the Upper Congo the body of the deceased is 
wrapped in cloth, and buried in a hole dug beneath 
his own house, food being placed by friends upon 
his grave. The house is allowed to fall into ruin. 

There is usually great sacrifice of life upon the occa- 
sion of the death of a chief, the idea being that the spir- 
its of those who are sacrificed will follow the spirit of 
the dead chief, so that he may maintain a retinue even 
after death. Professional women mourners are en- 
gaged, who manifest their grief by agonising wails and 
cries which really give the impression of genuine sor- 
row. In the midst of their wildest wails, however, 
they sometimes stop to smoke a pipe or to haggle with 
their neighbours, and then resume their lamentations. 
During the period of mourning they refrain from bath- 
ing, and maintain an appearance of great dejection, 
entirely neglecting all care of their persons. In this 
relation it is interesting to note that the burial customs 
of the ancient Egyptians consisted in smearing their 
faces with mud, rolling the dead bodies in quantities 
of cloth, and placing food upon the grave. 

Food 

Light food in the form of fruit, is taken at sunrise, 
snacks are indulged in during the day and the prin- 
cipal meal is eaten after sundown. As a general 



292 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

rule the natives are moderate eaters, but when they 
secure an elephant or a hippopotamus, they gorge 
themselves to an extraordinary extent and remain 
impotent for days afterwards. 

In the Lower Congo the spotted grass rats are con- 
sidered a great delicacy. They are caught by being 
driven into traps, cylindrical in shape, made on the 
principle of the familiar eel creels. 

Sir Harry Johnston has dealt fully with an inter- 
esting fact in relation to the subject of food. 1 It 
appears obvious, as he remarks, that the present 
inhabitants of the Upper Congo cannot have occu- 
pied the country until within comparatively recent 
times. At no very distant date the physical condi- 
tions of the Great Forest region were such as to pre- 
vent extensive settlement, entire regions being largely 
submerged. A consideration of the native diet alone 
indicates that great changes have taken place in this 
part of the African continent within the last few 
centuries. The staple food of the present inhabi- 
tants of the Congo region, with the exception of fish, 
is almost all of American origin. The dwarf tribes 
of the Great Forest region are the only natives who 
appear able to subsist entirely upon indigenous foods. 

In the event of the failure of their crop of exotic 
food, a Bantu tribe will be reduced to a condition of 



1 " George Grenfell and the Congo," by Sir Harry Johnston, G.C.M.G., 
K.C.B. 




A Lukolela girl with firewood 

From a bronze statuette by the Author 



IN GENERAL 293 

absolute starvation. Many instances of this latter 
fact can be cited. 

In the far interior, in districts situated around the 
Aruimi and Lomami rivers, the staple food con- 
sists of plantains, manioc, and fish. Towards the 
west coast, the natives cultivate in addition to 
plantains and manioc, maize, sweet potatoes, sugar 
cane, peanuts, egg fruit, bananas, pumpkins, yams, 
pineapples, and tobacco, and obtain nuts, oil, and 
wine from the oil-palm. They use also many wild 
plants, whose leaves when bruised and stewed, 
are utilised as vegetables, resembling spinach in 
flavour. 

With regard to the unfortunate Congo fowls, much 
might be written of their suffering and exposure to 
the sun and rain. Carried in bondage from one 
town to another, from one market to another, and 
living only upon what they can peck within a twelve- 
inch radius of their tether-stick, they present a de- 
plorable appearance. 

Pigs are sold alive, and also in the form of meat. 
Incidentally it is curious to remark that the value of 
a pig in some districts represents about twice the 
value of a woman. Two ordinary women may be 
purchased for the price of one pig. 

Fat pork is sold in small portions, and sometimes, 
to prevent pilfering and thieving, the choicest fat 
portions will be fastened to a skewer stuck in the 



294 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

butcher's woolly hair. The hot sun is apt to cause 
waste, for the fat melts and trickles over the face 
and shoulders. 

Makkets 

Throughout the Congo, the natives are very strict 
in the observation of their market laws. Any in- 
fringement renders the culprit liable to death. Upon 
such occasions the culprit is either buried to his neck 
in a hole in the market-place and his skull crushed 
by a heavy stone, or he is beaten to death with 
sticks and his body is subsequently lashed to a pole 
which is erected alongside a native path. 

As in Ireland, whether natives have business or 
not, they make it a point to attend the market. The 
trading instinct is very strongly developed. If they 
have nothing to buy or sell, they like to look on. 

They are very noisy; addicted to chronic squabbles. 
Every one talks at once. No one listens. They waste 
hours in absurd disputes, every one explaining, no 
one listening. It would appear that they think out- 
wardly instead of inwardly. 

* * * * * 

The week of the Bakongo consists of four days, 
which are named as follows: N'Kandu, N'Konsu, 
N'Kenge, N'sona. 



IN GENERAL 295 

On each of these days a food market is held in 
different districts. For instance, the name of a vil- 
lage being tacked on to its market day, a native will 
speak of N'Kandu Lutete or N'Kenge Lemba. 

% % j{s sK H* 

Strolling in a market-place, my attention was 
attracted to a woman who was conspicuously ar- 
rayed in finery. She was covered with camwood 
powder, and wore massive iron collars and anklets. 
A native informed me that she was for sale. "At 
how much do you value the collar?" I asked. 
"Three hundred mitakos," * was the reply. "And 
those anklets?" "They are one hundred mitakos 
each." "And the woman herself?" "Three hun- 
dred mitakos." 

Weapons 

Upper Congo savages are always armed. An un- 
armed man is jeered at and called a woman, and is 
told to "go and rear children." 

The Congo tribes may be said to live in an early 
iron age. In the far interior, iron is plentiful and 
forms the principal element of trade; as iron is a 
necessity to the natives for the manufacture of their 
weapons, it has therefore with them an actual value. 

The tribes of the interior may be classified not 
alone by the distinguishing cicatrisation designs upon 

1 Lengths of brass wire. 



296 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

their faces and bodies, but also by their local de- 
signs and forms of fashioning the iron knives and 
spear heads, which constitute their weapons for pur- 
poses of attack and defence. In the manufacture 
of these weapons, the Upper Congo tribes display 
a remarkable artistic taste and mechanical ingenuity. 
Most of the fighting knives manufactured by the 
tribes far distant from the coast, possess an infinite 
grace of form, and display a high sense of deco- 
rative art. 

The iron ore, from its raw state, is reduced and 
smelted in ant-hills by means of charcoal fires and 
primitive bellows. It is then beaten into shape by 
the aid of a smooth stone, and is subsequently fash- 
ioned and decorated. Every member of the Upper 
Congo tribes is more or less able to manufacture his 
own weapons. 

The forms of knives and spears have a decided 
nationality stamped upon them, and one is easily 
able to distinguish by certain characteristics of the 
weapon, the tribe by whom it was made. 

Smoking 

Of peculiar interest is the fact that throughout 
Central Africa the tobacco-plant is found growing 
in a wild state. Both men and women in all the 
tribes from the coast, as far as Bukute (the equa- 
tor district), smoke tobacco. From thence, pro- 



IN GENERAL 297 

ceeding inland, the practice of smoking becomes 
less prevalent. 

Pipes of various forms, composed of clay bowls, 
cane, eland horns, gourds, banana stalks, iron, and 
even elephant tusks, are employed. Each tribe 
boasts of a pipe of distinctive shape and composi- 
tion. The smoke is inhaled, and, after two or three 
draughts, the pipe is generally passed on to a neigh- 
bour. 

The tobacco-leaf is merely plucked and dried. In 
the district on the north bank of the Congo, opposite 
Lukolela, however, the tobacco-leaf is saturated with 
urine, rolled and bound somewhat after the fashion 
of the peruke of old days. 

A peculiar form of smoking is sometimes indulged 
in by digging a hole in soft ground and laying a 
long grass-stalk in such a way that the two ends 
project above the surface, and by filling in the hole 
with earth and lightly withdrawing the stalk, leav- 
ing in the soil a hollow canal of semi-circular direc- 
tion, at one extremity of which a few dry leaves of 
tobacco were placed together with a burning ember; 
the natives following this method take their turn, 
stooping down one after the other, drawing, and 
inhaling the smoke. This latter form of smoking 
was frequently practised by carriers while on the 
march, as by this means they avoided the necessity of 
increasing their load, even by the weight of a pipe. 



298 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Wild hemp smoking (liamba) is practised by some 
of the natives of the Lower Congo with sad results. 
The practice however is not extensive, and it would 
appear to be a habit of comparatively recent origin. 
The natives indulge largely in snuff, which is pre- 
pared by drying tobacco-leaves over a fire, grinding 
them in the hands, and mixing the powder with the 
white ashes of a hard-wood fire. Snuff is generally 
applied to the nostrils upon the blade of a knife. 
At Lukolela both men and women and even children 
are inveterate smokers. A very long-stemmed metal 
pipe is frequently used, the stem sometimes being 
eight or nine feet long. 

The obtaining of fire by rubbing sticks together 
is an obviously difficult process, and consequently, 
when a party of natives travel on a journey one of 
them is always delegated to carry a fire-brand. This 
is carefully nursed, and held with the smouldering 
end towards the body. 

Songs * 

The natives of the Congo region, in common with 
the negro race, possess a natural sense of melody. 
They frequently indulge in chants, the nature of 
which is suggestive of very primitive origin. In all 
cases, these chants are monotonous in tone and 
without great variety. A man will sing a solo, 

1 My thanks are due to my friend Mr. Raymond Woog for transposing 
the two African canoe songs which appear on pp. 300, 301. 




M'bichi 

Musical Instrument, Lower Congo 
In the collection of the Author 



IN GENERAL 299 

and the strain will be taken up by the women. 
It is not improbable that the native canoe-songs, and 
even funeral dirges, take their origin from a species 
of bird, the male of which performs a solo, the 
refrain being echoed by the female. Drums are 
usually the only musical accompaniment. The 
subject-matter of the native songs is generally of an 
impromptu character, and tends to ridicule the foi- 
bles and peculiarities of the kinsfolk of the singers. 
The voices of the men are melodious and musical; 
the female voices on the contrary are generally shrill 
and harsh. 

Musical Instruments 

Considering the love of musical sound, which is a 
distinct characteristic of the African natives, the 
limited variety of their musical instruments is 
remarkable. 

Drums are composed of goat skin stretched across 
the ends of a hollowed section of a soft wood tree; 
and also of sections of hard wood trees, hollowed 
through a narrow longitudinal crevice, the edges of 
which are beaten with small drum sticks with balls 
of rubber attached. It is by means of drums of this 
latter form that the wonderful system of "drum 
talk" is conducted. 

Rattles and castanets are in common use at witch 
ceremonies and dances. The Bateke tribe of the 



300 



A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 




IN GENERAL 



301 




302 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Middle Congo use a crude stringed instrument, 
resembling a lyre in shape. The Lower Congo 
tribes use the "mbichi," a small instrument com- 
posed of tongues of iron, attached to a sounding 
board, which is held in both hands and played 
with the thumbs. 

Drum-Talk 

Throughout Central Africa one finds a remark- 
able system of communication between villages by 
means of drum-tapping. 

It is evidently of very ancient origin, and has been 
referred to as a forerunner of writing. Travelling 
through Africa one's arrival is always anticipated 
by this means. 

The drum that is most commonly used for this 
purpose consists of the segment of a hard red-wood 
tree, some six feet long and about two feet in diam- 
eter, the inside of which has been hollowed out by 
means of a small adze-shaped tool. This is a work 
which occupies much time and calls forth considerable 
patience. One side being left thicker than the other 
gives the means of producing two distinct tones. 

The natives first "call" the town by a series of 
taps. They can argue, and they are able even in 
war-time to communicate with their enemies and 
make terms. This applies more particularly to the 
river-side tribes, who, finding that sound travels 



IN GENERAL 303 

better over water, are in the habit of taking their 
drums to the water's edge. Their signals are re- 
peated from one village to another. 

The drum is beaten by two wooden sticks capped 
by balls of rubber, and the system consists of irregu- 
lar taps upon the two notes. In spite of all my 
efforts I was never able to acquire any practical 
information concerning their methods. But I can 
personally vouch for the wonderful accuracy with 
which they conveyed tidings and doings. 

By way of testing their powers I once asked for 
the despatch of a canoe manned by four men, to 
be sent from a distant village shore. They duly 
shoved off and, after a few minutes, I asked them 
to telegraph that the canoe was too small, that they 
were to return, and that what I required was a larger 
canoe with an increased number of men. Instantly 
the canoe returned to the shore and a larger one set 
out more fully manned, my order being promptly 
and perfectly executed. 

The natives frequently send word to each other 
by means of drum-tapping, as to the whereabouts 
of elephants, hippopotami, or buffalo and calling 
all hands to go and hunt them. They give the 
description of the place, so that all can meet together 
at a given spot and join the hunt. 

The natives become greatly excited by the boom- 
ing of a drum; and it is a curious fact related by 



304 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

natives that monkeys in the forest have been 
noticed to be affected by the rhythmical beating of 
a drum. 

Proverbs and Fables 

Proverbs give a deep insight into domestic life. 
There are but few examples in use among the Congo 
tribes. I have failed to obtain any examples from 
the people of the Upper River; and the following 
represent the extent of my success among the Lower 
Congo tribes: 

"All things are pleasant to the young." 

"If you have to sleep three on a bed, sleep in the 
middle." The beds are composed of bamboo, with 
three cross battens. Generally four feet long, three 
feet wide, and raised six inches from the ground. 

"My mother-in-law is angry with me. But what 
do I care ? We do not eat from the same dish." An 
allusion to the native custom of man and woman 
eating separately. 

"Disu kunsi lukaya" (An eye under a leaf). An 
allusion to hypocrisy. 

"Kiesi vana n'dabu" (Laughter on the eye-lid). 
An allusion to insincerity. 

To denote the last, they say "The mother of the 
last." 

With reference to dreams, they sometimes relate 
what they saw in "Sleepland." 



IN GENERAL 305 

The various tribes of the Lower Congo are famil- 
iar with a version of our nursery fable: "The goose 
with the golden eggs." "Four fools owned a fowl. 
The fowl laid blue glass beads instead of eggs. A 
quarrel arose concerning the ownership of the fowl. 
The fowl was subsequently killed, and divided into 
four equal portions. The spring of their good for- 
tune dried up." It should be explained that blue 
glass beads, introduced in the first place probably 
by the Phoenicians, have been the chief medium of 
currency with the tribes near the coast since the 
earliest times. 

The natives of the Babangi and adjacent tribes 
(Upper Congo) once related to me a fable regarding 
the origin of monkeys. Many generations ago a 
tribe of natives who lived upon the banks of the 
Congo River, near Bolobo, fell into a condition of 
debt and difficulties with their neighbours. In 
order to escape the persecutions of their wrathful 
creditors, they retired into the great forest. Time 
passed, but they still remained poor. Forest life 
degenerated them. Hair grew upon their bodies. 
They arranged to forego speech, lest they should be 
recognised. They are now still in the forest, and 
they are known as "Bakewa" (monkey men). This 
fable applies principally to chimpanzees. 

Upon being asked if they ate chimpanzees, a 
member of the Babangi tribe replied: "No! We 



306 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

are not like those people over there," pointing in the 
direction of the interior — "We are not cannibals!" 



The natives of the Lower Congo in the earliest 
days of Congo exploration (1878, 1879) related a 
fable concerning the inhabitants of the far interior: 
"Far away inland, many moons' journey, there 
dwell a tribe of small people. Their heads are so 
big and heavy that when they fall down, they can- 
not get up again without assistance." Allowing for 
African exaggeration it is interesting to note this 
knowledge of the dwarf race among the Lower 
Congo tribes, on account of the enormous distance 
which separates them and the entire absence of 
communication between the intervening tribes; and 
also on account of the extreme isolation of the dwarfs 
who inhabit the heart of the Great Forest. 

Nomenclature 

The natives of the Upper Congo seldom bear 
more than one name, a proper name, which has no 
connection with parentage or tribe. The natives of 
the Lower Congo are frequently the possessors of 
six names: the clan name, the surname, the Chris- 
tian name, the native baptismal name, the Fua- 
Kongo name, and the Kitoko or fancy name, be- 
stowed upon young men by the young girls of their 
village. 



CANNIBALISM 

The motive for eating human flesh is mainly attrib- 
utable to two sources: firstly, by eating prisoners 
of war, certain tribes consider they gain courage; 
and secondly, because human flesh is relished as an 
article of diet. 

A native once said: 

"Human flesh gives to us a strong heart for fight- 
ing. We eat men because it is good to eat meat that 
talked. It is our custom." 

It is a common belief with savages that people 
acquire the qualities of the animals upon which they 
feed. 

It is by no means the lack or the need of animal 
food that leads natives to eat human flesh. They 
eat it because they have a profound, innate love of it. 

The practice of cannibalism, whether it originated 
or not from stress of adverse circumstances, has be- 
come an acquired taste, the indulgence of which has 
created a peculiar form of disorder. Although such 
elements as lack of feeling, love of fighting, cruelty 
and general human degeneracy may be prominent 

307 



A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

attributes of the cannibals, it is surprising that a 
race so addicted to cannibalism living in a condi- 
tion of anarchy and barbarism, should retain so 
striking an identity, and should possess so much 
taste for form and decoration, that they should be so 
readily amenable to reasoning, and so quick to avail 
themselves of improved conditions. 

The impression I received from personal inter- 
course was that the cannibals of the forest were 
infinitely more sympathetic than the people of the 
open country, where the trading instinct is in- 
born. The cannibals are not schemers, and they 
are not mean. When they steal they generally 
grab. Though in direct opposition to all natural 
conjectures, they are among the best types of men, 
representing the most enlightened and enterprising 
of the Congo communities. 

The practice of cannibalism in certain parts of 
the country is confined to the eating of prisoners of 
war; in other places the bodies of the dead are con- 
sumed, exception, however, being always made of 
the consumption of the bodies of those who die 
from any malignant form of skin disease. 

When a chief or head-man dies, the members of 
certain tribes club together and purchase several 
slaves ; after reducing themselves to a state of drunk- 
enness they kill and eat them. It was noticeable 
among the Bangalas and kindred tribes that a state 




Human teeth necklace and bracelet, Aruimi 
//! the Author's coU.i: 



CANNIBALISM 309 

of drunkenness usually prevailed when eating human 
flesh. 

Fights are always followed by feasts. 

"Do you people eat human bo.dies?" said I one 
day, upon entering a native village, and pointed to 
a quantity of meat, spitted upon long skewers, being 
smoke-dried over numerous smouldering fires. 

"Io; yo te?" ("Yes; don't you?") was the in- 
stant reply. 

A few minutes later the chieftain of the village 
came forward with an offering which consisted of 
large and generous portions of flesh, only too obvi- 
ously of human origin. He seemed genuinely dis- 
appointed when I refused. 

Once in the great forest, when camping for the 
night with a party of Arab raiders and their native 
followers, we were compelled to change the position 
of our tent owing to the offensive smell of human 
flesh, which was being cooked on all sides of us. A 
native chief stated to me that the time occupied in 
devouring a human body varied according to whether 
the latter happened to be one of his enemies, when 
he would eat the body himself, or merely a slave, 
who would be divided between his followers. 

There existed in many places an organised system 
of trade for the barter of human beings destined to 
be sacrificed for food. In some districts, where the 
land had been afflicted by famine, it was no un- 



310 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

common thing for starving natives to be captured 
wholesale. 

I have personally witnessed convoys of slaves that 
had been bought or captured being conveyed to tribes 
who purchase them as food, giving ivory in exchange. 

The organised traffic in human beings which ex- 
isted in the district through which the Lulungu 
River passes may also be mentioned. This river, 
which constitutes a considerable southern affluent of 
the Congo, empties into the latter river at a point 
some eight hundred miles from the Atlantic coast. 

Within a short distance of the confluence were to 
be found a series of strongly fortified villages, repre- 
senting the head-quarters of the Ngombe, wherein 
numbers of slaves are imprisoned pending the peri- 
odical visits of traders from the Mubangi country, 
which is situated on the opposite side of the Congo. 

A visit to one of these slave-depots at the mouth of 
the Lulungu River revealed a condition of savagery 
and suffering beyond all ordinary powers of descrip- 
tion. 

At the period to which these remarks bear refer- 
ence it was no uncommon experience to witness up- 
wards of a hundred captives, of both sexes and 
of all ages, including infants in their mothers' 
arms, lying in groups; masses of utterly forlorn 
humanity, with eyes downcast in a stony stare, with 
bodies attenuated by starvation, and with skin of 



CANNIBALISM 311 

that dull grey hue which among coloured races is 
always indicative of physical disorder. In certain 
native market-places, notably in the vicinity of the 
Mubangi, it used to be an ordinary occurrence for 
captives to be exposed for sale, in most cases with 
the sinister fate in view of being killed and eaten. 

At intervals these villages were visited by the 
Mubangi, who came in large dug-out canoes, and 
the process of barter commenced, elephant tusks 
being the medium of currency used in the purchase 
of the slaves. Upon the conclusion of this unnatural 
transaction the visitors retired, taking with them as 
many of the individuals as had been transferred to 
their possession by the tedious process of bargaining. 

Upon reaching their destination the captives were, 
in most cases, subjected to further ordeals, being 
exchanged into other hands until eventually, after 
having been deliberately fattened, they met their 
tragic fate, and their bodies were consumed. In 
cases where a suspicion was entertained of an indi- 
vidual captive's intention to escape, the unfortunate 
creature was doomed to lie hobbled with one foot 
forced through a hole cut in the section of a log, 
with a spear-head driven into the wood close beside 
the limb, rendering it impossible to move except at 
the risk of laceration. 

Other means to insure the prisoner's safe custody 
consisted in binding both hands above the head to 



312 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

the king-post of a hut, or in binding the arms and 
plaiting the hair into a braid, which was made fast 
to a branch overhead. 

Proportionately, a greater number of men than 
women fall victims to cannibalism, the reason being 
that women who are still young are esteemed as 
being of greater value by reason of their utility in 
growing and cooking food. This rule does not 
however hold good throughout, for in the vicinity 
of the Aruimi River our observations revealed a 
reversed proportion. 

Probably the most inhuman practice of all is to 
be met with among the tribes who deliberately hawk 
the victim piecemeal whilst still alive. Incredible 
as it may appear, the statement remains justified by 
abundant proof, as well as from personal observa- 
tion, that captives were led from place to place in 
order that individuals might have the opportunity 
of indicating, by external marks on the body, the 
portion they desired to acquire. The distinguishing 
marks are generally made by means of coloured clay 
or strips of grass tied in a peculiar fashion. 

The astounding stoicism of the victims, who thus 
witnessed the bargaining for their limbs piecemeal, 
was only equalled by the callousness with which 
they walked forward to meet their fate. In expla- 
nation of the extraordinary indifference thus dis- 
played, it can only be assumed that death is robbed 




Bangala 

Drawn by the Author 



i\W 



A type of the Lomami 

Drawn by the Author 



CANNIBALISM 313 

of all terror, for living under conditions of perpetual 
fear, life must present but little that is attractive. 

There is a prevalent belief among many of the 
river-side tribes of the Upper Congo that the flavour 
of human flesh is improved by submerging the pros- 
pective victim up to the neck in the water for two 
or three days previous to sacrifice. In 1886 when, 
proceeding to take command of the Station of Ban- 
gala, I travelled up the Upper Congo on board the 
stern- wheel steamer "Le Stanley ," my companions 
consisted of Captain Deane, and Dr. Oscar Lentz, 
a well-known German savant. 

Arriving late in the evening at the village of 
Lulungu, situated on the south bank, we applied to 
the people for provisions, for we had on board some 
four hundred native followers, a portion of whom 
were Houssa soldiers, these latter being attached to 
Captain Deane, who was on his ill-fated journey to 
take command of Stanley Falls Station. 

The Chief of Lulungu informed us that his people 
were in great trouble. They were at war with a 
neighbouring village, and daily they had sustained 
heavy losses; in fact many of their people had been 
already captured and eaten, and they feared that they 
would very shortly be overpowered by the superior 
number of their adversaries. 

We held a palaver, and it was agreed that we 
should enter into the matter at sunrise. 



314 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

The following morning endeavours were made to 
parley with the chief of the hostile village. Spears 
were hurled at us, and our overtures were treated 
with derisive yells. 

Dividing the two villages a stockade had been 
formed about twelve feet high, composed of the sides 
of old canoes, which had been split lengthways. The 
Houssas fired a volley through the stockade, and 
Deane gave the word to rush forward. 

Clambering the stockade, we fell on the opposite 
side in a confused mass, during which time the 
natives continued hurling spears at us, and firing 
occasional shots from their one or two flint-lock 
guns. 

For several minutes the scene was one of inde- 
scribable confusion, and the noise of shouting, shriek- 
ing savages had a peculiar, awesome effect upon the 
nerves. 

After making two or three plucky stands, the 
warriors incontinently bolted, to seek cover in the 
high grass of the neighbouring swamp. In retiring 
they set fire to their village, and, as a strong wind 
was blowing, the grass huts crackled and blazed 
until we found ourselves enveloped in sheets of 
flame. Stifled by the smoke, singed by the fire, and 
half-blinded, we suffered considerable discomfort. A 
few minutes sufficed to convert the village into a 
mass of charred, smouldering sticks and poles. 



CANNIBALISM 315 

The Lulungu people immediately rushed towards 
the river, calling us to follow. There, attached to 
stakes, immersed to their chins in water, we found 
four Lulungu captives in a pitiable plight. Follow- 
ing the habit of the country, their captors had sub- 
jected these poor captives to a process of soaking 
preparatory to their being killed and eaten. 

i-i $< >|c jfc ^ 

After taking command of the Station of Bangala 
in 1886, I soon became acquainted with the fact 
that cannibalism was of frequent occurrence. 

I had, as a personal servant, a young Bangala 
native named Ezambinia. He was bright and in- 
telligent, and aided me greatly in my efforts to learn 
the Bangala language, and I obtained much valu- 
able information from him. 

Most of mv notes were made during the evening, 
for I found that Ezambinia was more at his ease 
when there was no risk of his being overheard. 

One evening, at the termination of a sort of 
cross-examination to which I subjected him, I per- 
ceived a certain hesitancy in his manner. I knew 
but little of the language at that time, and Ezam- 
binia did his best to talk only in the words that he 
had taught me. He said that as I had asked ques- 
tions with reference to the custom of eating human 
flesh, I might that evening witness the process in the 
quarter of the village where the chieftain Joko lived. 



316 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

Ezambinia suggested to me that I should wait 
until the night was half gone and that I should 
proceed alone. 

Picking my way in the shadow of the huts (for 
many fires were blazing in the village), I gradually 
approached the further end of the long line of native 
huts. 

It would probably have been a serious matter had 
I been detected, because although ostensibly on good 
terms with the people, yet our peaceful condition 
was liable at any time to be upset. At length I 
reached a point at right angles to the river, where 
a group of bushes afforded me shelter. 

A little distance away I saw a group of perhaps 
forty or fifty men gathered in a circle around a large 
fire. Occasionally I detected the glitter of a spear- 
head and heard the metal jingle of bracelets and 
anklets amid the uproar of human voices. 

They all appeared to be talking at the same time. 
As the fire sometimes burst up into flame, it cast 
flickering lights upon their bodies and cicatrised faces. 

This was the first time I was the actual witness of 
human flesh-eating. The process was being car- 
ried on before me in all its grim and awful reality. 

Two years subsequently I witnessed numerous 
instances of cannibalism, and upon more than one 
occasion portions of human flesh were actually 
offered to me with the utmost cordiality by hospita- 



CANNIBALISM 317 

bly intentioned forest dwellers. It should be borne 
in mind that the chief had never before even heard 
of the existence of a white man, and that he was 
offering me of his best. 

Between four and five years after my return from 
Africa, I learnt of the presence of a party of Bangala, 
who had been brought over as objects of curiosity 
to the Brussels Exhibition. It was late in the after- 
noon when I found myself passing under a large 
gateway of the " Boulangerie" of the barracks. 

Despite the obscurity and the changed nature of 
my apparel I was immediately recognised, and I 
heard my native name, "Nkumbi," uttered simulta- 
neously by several of the people. 

They were seated around a fire eating their even- 
ing meal. They appeared pleased to see me, and I 
felt pleased at my cordial reception. 

The Bangala language, in which I had gained a 
certain proficiency, had, until that moment, passed 
entirely from my mind. I found myself replying 
spontaneously to questions that were asked, but each 
time I became conscious of the sound of my voice, 
uttering these strange words, my flow of language 
ceased — the spell was broken, and speech became 
paralysed as it were — I could not continue. After 
listening awhile to their voices, words gradually 
came back to me and one of my first inquiries was 



318 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

of the welfare of Ezambinia, my former servant. 
An ominous silence followed my inquiry. They 
shook their right hands as a token that he was dead. 

Subsequently I took one man apart, out of hear- 
ing of his companions, and asked him confidentially 
in a low tone, to tell me what had really happened. 
I shall always remember his gesture as he said: 

"He is dead. ... I had his head in my hands." 



ENVOI 

In the foregoing pages I have endeavoured to 
convey the spirit of something that is deep within 
me — a fellow-feeling for the Central-African natives. 
They are not the altogether degraded race that one 
might infer by reading instances of their brutality 
and cannibalism. They are a people whose develop- 
ment has been temporarily arrested by adversity. 
They are very human: they are often cruel but they 
are often kind. 

They have never had a chance. Persecution has 
always been their heritage. First, they persecuted 
one another, and then they were persecuted by others. 

The Congo natives possess a clear intelligence 
within the limits of their own experience. Under 
the influence of good example, they will surely re- 
linquish their evil customs; for their natures are 
capable of better things. It is as sure that they will 
improve under good guidance as it is unfortunately 
sure that Europeans of an inferior moral and intel- 
lectual standard, prompted by greed, who have been 
thrown among them, have in too many cases assimi- 

319 



320 A VOICE FROM THE CONGO 

lated a double measure of the natives' lower quali- 
ties. For it is a law of nature that the weak shall 
follow the strong. 

There must be hope for a people who are ame- 
nable to kind and judicious treatment: we should 
reflect upon the fact that the African savage of to-day 
serves to indicate to us how much we ourselves have 
advanced from a similarly primitive state. 

For many years past the attention of the whole 
world has been occupied by the lamentable condi- 
tion of misrule on the Congo. 1 Ten years ago Mr. 
E. D. Morel, an English journalist, commenced a 
serious study of this question, and he published to 
the world, through the medium of his heartfelt writ- 
ings, a comprehensive and faithful record of existing 
conditions, compiled from the evidence of eye-wit- 
nesses. No reference to Congo matters can be made 
without due acknowledgment of the disinterested 
and courageous work accomplished by Mr. E. D. 
Morel. 

There are two sides to the subject of Congo af- 
fairs: the political side, which has been dealt with 
so ably by honest, fearless men, who have sought to 
ameliorate the conditions of a persecuted race. The 
second side, it appears to me, should relate to the 

1 In the House of Lords, on February 24, 1908, Lord Cromer stated: 
"There has been a cynical disregard of the native races, and a merciless 
exploitation of the country, in the interests of foreigners, for which I 
believe a parallel cannot be found in the history of modern times." 



ENVOI 321 

race in question — their nature, their habits and 
customs, and their personality. If a perusal of the 
foregoing pages serves to call forth a feeling of in- 
terest and sympathy for my African friends, I shall 
be more than content. 



INDEX 



Accra, 189 

Adultery, punishment of, 283 

Africa, Central — 

Peculiarities of, 224; glamour of 

the life in, 247-51; physical 

character, 253 
Alakai, Corporal, story of, 35-51. 
Alaska, 247 

Albert Edward, Lake, 181 
Albert Nyanza, 180, 181 
Albinoes, 283 

Animals, stories about, 138-49 
Anklets, 289 
Anointing the body, the practice 

of, 289 
Ants, habits, 147 
Arab-raiders. See Slave-raiding 
Arabs, Stanley and the, 182-83, 

188 
Arrows in warfare, 103, 110 
Aruimi tribes, customs, 278, 309; 

dress, 288; food, 292 
Aruwimi River, 123, 133, 143 
Astonishment, mode of expressing, 

278 
Athletics for the natives, 150-51 

Babangi tribe — 

Beliefs of the, 272; superstition 
among the, 272-76; customs, 
278, 287-90; fables among the, 
304 

Babwende tribe, customs, 279 

Bailey, Captain, story of, 235-37 

"Bakewa," 305 

Bakongo tribe, the, 136 

Bakundu tribe, the, 258-59 

Balala, story of, 148 



Balolo tribe, tribal marks, 286 

Bangala, 19, 29, note; 208, 315 

Bangala tribe, the — 

Tribal superiority, 259-60; the 
first band of recruits, 166; can- 
nibalism, 201; customs, 307 

Bangweolo Lake, 247 

Bantus, the, 255-59— 

The Congo tribes allied to, 265; 
language characteristics, 265- 
69; food, 291 

Banyan, 194 

Baptist mission at Tunduwa, 247 

Bargaining customs, 279 

Barker, death of, 194 

Barter — 

Traffic in human beings, 70, 309, 
310; cotton cloth, 136, 216, 
289; articles of, 153; power 
to sell relations, 280 

Baruti, boy, story of, 184 

Basoko, the — 

Cannibalism of, 35; Stanley's 
fight with, 124, 127 

Basoko, village of, 184 

Bateke tribe, the, 299 

Beads as a medium of currency, 36 

Belgian rule on the Congo, 247 

Bemba, Lake, 195 

Blood-brotherhood, the rite of, 
195, 208-09, 279-80 

"Bokom," 205 

Bokono, 285 

Bolobo, 59, 183— 

The natives, 59; funeral of a 
chief, 59; the camp at, 187; 
customs in, 278 

Boma, the headquarters at, 155 



323 



324 



INDEX 



Eonny, the town of, 240 

Bopoto, the, tribal marks, 282; 
dress of, 286 

Bracelets, 289 

Brussels, 231, 238 

Brussels Exhibition, 317 

Buffaloes, 125, 235 

Bukute, 296 

"Bula Matadi," Stanley's nick- 
name, 191, 203 

Bulelu, his impressions related, 201 

Burial customs, 290 

Burying alive, 59, 278, 294 

Bussi Ali, 36 

Butterflies, white, 148 and note 

Bwana Makubwa, Livingstone's 
African name, 195 

Bwana Wadoud, slave-owner, 194 

Cabinda, 229 

Cam, Diego, his discovery, 180, 253 

Cameron, 67 

Cannibalism, 307 — 

Instances, 70, 82; unknown in 
the Lower Congo, 256; preva- 
lent among the Waluheli, 
260; customs, 289; motives 
for, 307; organized trade in 
lives, 309; the custom of soak- 
ing the victim, 313; frequency 
of, 315 

Canoeing through the forest, 23; 
on the Stanley Falls, 72 

Cape Town, 199 

Caravan transports, 133; crossing 
a torrent, 212 

Carriers, overland, difficulties of 
the cataract region, 213; pay- 
ment, 216; recruiting of car- 
riers, 217 

Carter, Captain, 196 and note 

Carthaginians, the, 142 

Casement, Roger, 147, 233 

Caste, 99 

Charm Doctors, 209, 256, 259; the 
dance of death, 63; power of 
the, 271-75 

Charms, 275 

Chieftainship, hereditary, 277 



Children — 

Conditions of, in the Congo, 281 ; 
deformed, 283; pleasures of, 284 

Chimpanzees, 146 

Christmas in Houssaland, 165 

Cicatrisation, 286; 

Clans, means of distinguishing, 277 

Cocoa plantations, slaves of the, 220 

Colne River, the, 204 

Congo Independent State, found- 
ing of, 75, 179-80, 215; Con- 
sul Casement's report, 233 

Congo River, the, 59, 133— 

The cataract region, 139, 215, 
253; Stanley's discoveries, 179; 
Diego Cam's discoveries, 253; 
physical characteristics be- 
tween the cataracts and Stan- 
ley Falls, 257; the Great For- 
est region, 258 
Lower Congo River, 215; physical 
features, 255; prevailing char- 
acteristics of the tribes, 256; 
superstitions, 272; customs, 
274; dress, 288; burial cus- 
toms, 290 
Upper Congo River, 19, 76; croco- 
diles, 145; the waterway, 215; 
customs, 274-75; dress, 288; 
burial customs, 291 

Cook, the, 230 

Corisco, the steamer, 237 

Cotton cloth as an article of barter, 
136, 153, 216; popularity of, 290 

Counting, native method, 267 

Creed, the native, 261 

Crocodiles, 3; stories of, 145, 149 

Crosse and Blackwell, 239 

Customs, general, in the Congo, 277 — 
Condition of women and children, 
281-84; disease and sickness, 
285; cicatrisation, 286; cos- 
tume and ornaments, 287 
burial customs, 290; food, 291 
markets, 294; weapons, 295 
smoking, 296; songs, 298; mu- 
sical instruments, 299; "drum- 
talk," 302; proverbs and fa- 
bles, 304; nomenclature, 306 



INDEX 



325 



Dancing, 7, 170: the dance of 

death, 63 
Darby, Mr., 186 
Dead, allusion to the, forbidden, 

264, 275 
Deane, Captain, his adventures, 

75, 240, 313 
Death, native regard for, 271 
Devil-worship, 271 
Dhanis, Baron, 68 
"Dikwala," the, 204, 286 
Dingo, the Australian, 148 
Dinguma, 203 
Disease in the Congo, 285 
Dogs, pariah, 8, 148, 169 
Dress, 152; Alfred Parminter's 

efforts regarding, 164; custom 

concerning, 287 
"Drum-talk," 302 
Dubois, Lieutenant, at Stanley 

Falls, 78-80 
Dwarfs, the, 103-12, 220— 

Methods of fight, 109; food of, 

292; fables concerning, 304 

Edward, death of, 197 

Egyptians, the, burial customs, 291 

Elephants, 12, 19, 219— 

Hunting at Mobunga, 19; im- 
paling a chief, 33; death of 
Captain Deane, 83; damage 
done by, 113, 141; native 
methods of killing, 116; baby 
elephants, 138; some stories 
of, 138; habits, 141; ancient 
use of, 142; the African and 
the Asiatic compared, 142; 
King Leopold's attempt to 
tame, 196 note 

"Emm Pacha Relief Expedition, 
the, 180, 193; geographical re- 
sults, 181; mortality among 
the black followers, 221 

Europeans in Central Africa, some 
annoyances, 228 

Evil Spirits, 115-19, 256, 270- 
76 

Eyelashes, extraction of, 288 

Ezambinia, native servant, 315 



Fables, 304 

Fetichism, 5-6, 30-34, 256, 270 

Fire, means of obtaining, 298 

Flag, the Congo, 36 

Fleas, burrowing, blood-poisoning 

from, 229 
Flint-locks as barter, 153 
Food in the Congo, 291; markets, 

294 
Forests, African, 69 
Fowls, Congo, 293 
"Fua-Kongo," rite of, 273 
Fumba, 17 
Funeral of an African chief, 59 

Gaboon, 220 

Gazelles, 223 

Glave, E. J., 190, 278; story of, 240; 
personality, 245; explorations 
of, 247 

Great Forest, the — 

Relation between human nature 
and animal life, in, 223; glam- 
our of the, 225; characteristics, 
258 

Guinea fowl, 143 

"Hadji," the title, 98 

Hair, dressing of the, 288 

Hamad Ibn Mohammed. See Tip- 

poTib 
Hats, 290 
Hebrew Law, customs analogous 

to, in the Congo, 283 
Hemp, wild, used for smoking, 298 
Heraldry, origin of, 287 
Herbal medicines, 285 
Herodotus cited, 253, 287 
Hinde, S. L., "The Fall of the 

Congo Arabs," 68 
Hippopotamus, the, flesh of, 142; 

stories, 155 
History, absence of, in the Congo, 

254, 264 
Home life, absence of, 282 
Houssas, the, 138, 165, 313; sol- 
diers, 36-37, 80, 82; tribal 

marks, 50 
Human flesh, barter in, 70-71, 310 



326 



INDEX 



Human nature and animal life in 
the Great Forest, relation be- 
tween, 223 

Huts, dwarf, 107; native, 256 

Ibenza, village of, 1-8 

Indian caste, 99 

Ingham, missionary, 149, 190 

Ioko, headman, 114, 120; the Man- 
yema raid, 127-32 

Ireland, market customs in, 
294 

Iron-work, native ingenuity, 266, 
296 

Isongo, 203 

Issanghila, 191 

Ivory — 
Accumulated stores of, 68; col- 
lected by the dwarfs, 106, 
107; methods of collecting, 
125; overland transport, 136; 
at the station, 135; used for 
barter in human lives, 310 

Jesuits, 199 

Jigger, the, 229 

Johnston, Sir Harry, " George Gren- 

fell and the Congo," 266 note, 

292 
Juma Makengeza, 153 

Kandenga, nickname, 196 
Kaolenge, the wife of Ioko, 130- 

32 
Kapita, the term, 136, 217 
Kataui village, 195 
Keys, Kemble, grave of, 76, 83 
Khalifan, negro, 85, 90, 91, 92, 
Kikongo language, the, 191, 264, 

265 
Kiswahili language, the, 12, 96 
Kizingiti, 67, 102; Arab planta- 
tions, 128 
Kizingiti, Rapids of. See Stanley 

Falls 
Kroo Boys, stories of, 152-54 
Kroo Coast, the, 152 
Kuyper, Dr., saying of, 249 
Kwa-mouth, 145 



Languages in the Congo basin, 
255, 264-69; a guide in de- 
termining racial division, 264; 
native vocabularies, 266 note 

he Stanley, steamer, 313 

Leaves, customs concerning, 279 

Lentz, Dr. Oscar, 313 

Leopold II., founding of the Congo 
Independent State, 179-80; 
attempt to tame African ele- 
phants, 196 note 

Lepidoptera, 148 note 

Leslie, Dr. Rolf, Stanley and, 190 

Letter-carriers, 157 

Liamba, 298 

Lions, 145 

Litoi Linene, the elephant, the tale 
of his tusk, 113-37 

Liverpool, 137 

Livingstone, Dr. — 

Story told of, 148; his discovery 
in 1871, 179; habits, 185; Uledi 
Pagani's account of, 194-96 

Lomami River, the, 290-93 

Lualaba River, the, 67; its identi- 
fication with the Congo, 179; 
Stanley's discoveries, 179, 196 

Lubaki, the wizard, 52-57 

Luemba, 159 

Luima River, the, 235 

Lukolela, 76; the graves at, 83; 
customs, 297-98 

Lukungu Valley, the, 30 

Lulungu, the chief of, 158; the 
station at, 245; Captain Deane 
at, 313 

Lulungu River, crocodiles in the, 
146; slave depots, 310 

Lupuri country, tribal marks, 286 

Lutete, 16-18 

Mabruki boy, 159 
Mabuiki, nickname, 198 
Magicians, 45 
Mahommed, 98 
Makola, chief, 144 
Makwata, story of, 166-176 
Malinga, tribal marks, 286 
"Mamma," 269 



INDEX 



327 



Manchester cotton cloth, 216 

Manioc, 261 

Manyali, 203 

Manyama country, 72 

Manyang, 9 

Manyanga, 199; the journey from 
Stanley Pool, 136 

Manyema raiders, the — 

Story of Osmani bin Seyf, 84; 
Suliman and his Manyemas, 
102-10; recruiting for, 125; 
the raid on Yabuli, 128; the 
raid on Yangambi, 133 

Marketing, 16-18; market laws, 294 

Marriage customs, 281-82 

Mary Ann, washer-woman, 240-41 

Masai, the, 102 

Masai-land, 194 

Mata Bwiki, blood-brotherhood 
with the Author, 208 

Matadi, 215; the journey from 
Stanley Pool, 136 

Mavonda N'zau, story of, 52-57 

Mayumbula, village of, 52-57 

Mbenga, the fight with the Ben- 
gala natives, 203 

"Mbichi," 302 

Mecca, 98 

Men, native, social conditions, 281- 
82; dress and ornamentation, 
288 

Mica, 232 

Michell, George Babington, native 
vocabularies, 266 note 

Mission children, 245 

Missionaries, kindness of, 251 

Mobololo, 203 

Mobunga, elephants at, 19-28 

"Molua,"the, 289 

Money unnecessary in Central Afri- 
ca, 229 

Monkey men, 305 

Monkey People, the. See Basoko 

Monkeys : " monkey cunning, " 290; 
origin of, 305 

Monungeri. See Upper Congo, 
under Congo 

Mosquitoes, 23, 228 

Mourners, professional, 291 



"Moyo," superstitions regarding 

the, 274 
Mrima, 66 

M'shenzi, woman, 92 
Mubangi country, slave-depots in 

the, 310 
Mueli, story of, 166-76 
Muini Hasali, 196 
Muini Khamici, Arab buccaneer, 

129-33 
Muini Pemba, 196 
Munipara Muimi Hasali, 195 
Musical instruments, 299 
Mute Ngige Lake, 197 

Naming of the Kroo Boys, 152- 
53 

Natives of the Congo, character- 
istics, 225-27— 
Gratitude, 163; curiosity, 189; 
native stories, 207; sense of 
form, 218; jealousy, 221; sim- 
ilarity between human and ani- 
mal life, 223; the skin colour, 
224; simplicity, 226-27; social 
conditions, 227; distinctive 
features. 254; influence of en- 
vironment, 262 

Nature-worship, 271 

Ndoki, the Evil Spirit, 32 

Ndunga, village of, 157, 198 

Necklets, 289 

New Year's Day, 1886, 219 

Nganga, witch-doctor, 4 

Nganga Nkissi. See Lubaki 

Nganwe, 197 

Ngembi, 14 

Ngengenwe, 48 

Ngudi N'Kama, chief, capture of, 
157 

Nguja, 199 

Niam Niam, the, 223 

Niger country, 165 

Nile, the, 253 

Nkandu market, the, 17 

Nkasa, a poisonous decoction, 59- 
62, 272 

"N'kimba," rite of, 273-74 

"Nkissi," 276 



328 



INDEX 



"Nkodi," Evil Spirit, 5 

Nomenclature, 306 

North Borneo, 165 

Ntolo, 285 

Ntuku, chief, stalking an elephant, 

32 
Nyanda, 197 
Nyangwe, 125; Arab slave centre, 

62, 179 
Nyanyembe, 199 
Nzambi, 271 

Old Vivi, 154 

Omens, 274 

Ornaments, customs concerning, 

287 
Osmani bin Seyf, story of, 84 
Owl, superstition regarding the, 

274 
Ozoio, Mobunga chief, 21 

Palaver meetings, description, 3-6; 

grounds, 60 
Paperone, nickname, 196 
Parke, Surgeon-Major, story of, 

239 
Parminter, Major, 146, 164, 201, 

219 
Parrots, gray, 147 
Peace, mission steamer, 183, 185 
Pigmies. See Dwarfs 
Pigs, value of, 293 
Pioneers of the Congo, stories of, 

231-45; sickness and mortality 

among, 247-49 
Pipes, 296 
Pocock, Frank, his death, 9, 179, 

197-98 
Poison test, the, 54, 272 
Proverbs and fables, 304 
Provisions, European, sent to the 

Congo, 239 
Pythons, stories of, 140 

Bach in, Arab, 147 

Railways, the New Congo Railway, 

inauguration, 215 
Rainfall, 258 
Rats, grass, 291 



Recruits — 

The first band of Bangalas, 166; 
the Houssas, 165; recruiting of 
manual carriers, 217 

Religion among the Congo tribes, 
271 

Rites, the N'Kimba, 273-74; blood- 
brotherhood, 195, 208-9, 278- 
80 

Roads, caravan, 212 

Rowenzori, Mount, 181 

Royal, steamer, 199 

Rubber, the native use for, 229 

Saburi, 198 

Sacrifices, human — 

Wives buried alive, 64; slaves, 
161, 278; on death of a chief, 
278; old people, 290; men sold 
for food, 307 

Salamini Rada, 199 

San Paul de Loanda, 207 

San Thom6, Island of, slaves of, 220 

Sanitation, absence of, 286 

Sayings, native, 160 

Schweinfurth, "The Heart of Afri- 
ca," 147 

Scythians, the, 287 

Semliki, 181 

Sequabo, saying of, quoted, 160 

Sewing machines in the Congo, 159 

Sickness in the Congo, 285 

Sketching native types, 218 

Skin, the African's, characteristics, 
224 

Slave-depots, 310 

Slave-raiding — 

Arab raiders, their methods, 35, 
49, 68; fall of the, 66; cleanli- 
ness of the leaders, 74; Captain 
Deane and the, 76; methods of 
the Manyema raiders, 84-93; 
Osmani bin Seyf, 84-93; Suli- 
man the slaver, 96; the raid on 
Yabuli, 128; the raid on Yan- 
gambi, 133; distributing the 
slaves, 134; stories of the slave- 
trade, 207; TippoTib. See that 
title 



INDEX 



329 



Slaves: decapitation of a chief's 
slaves, 64; slaves of San 
Thome, 220; native means of 
preventing escape, 311; sacri- 
fices of — see Sacrifices, human 

Sleeping sickness, the, prevalence 
of, 205; symptoms, 285 

Smoking, customs, 296 

Snuff-taking, 298 

Socialism in the Congo, 227 

Songs, 79, 298 

Sorcery, purging of, 54 

Stanley Falls, 67, 125, 127— 
Tragedies of the, 72; defence of, 
by Captain Deane, 75; Tippo 
Tib made governor of, 182 

Stanley, H. M.— 

Expedition of 1877, 9, 203; from 
Zanzibar to the Congo mouth, 
67; fight with the Basoko, 123; 
personality, 177; his return to 
Africa in 1874, 179; naviga- 
tion of the Lualaba, 179; 
founder of the Congo Inde- 
pendent State, 180; the Emin 
Pacha Relief Expedition, 180; 
native complaints at Stanley 
Pool, 181; his compact with 
Tippo Tib, 182; and the mis- 
sionaries, 186; his preference 
for Central Africa, 187; say- 
ings of, 188-191; disregard for 
sport, 190; his African nick- 
name, 191; death, 192; in 
Zanzibar, 1871, 194; Frank 
Pocock's death, 197; illness, 
199 

Stanley Pool, 78, 134, 181, 217— 
The journey to Manyanga, 136; 
native complaints of Stanley's 
black personnel, 181; the road 
to, 215 

Sticks, customs concerning, 248, 
267 

Stories, native, 158 

Suicides, 278 

Suliman the slaver, story of, 96 

Sun, the, effect on the vegetation, 
258 



Superstition — 

Yoka the sorcerer, 30; finding 

the evil spirit, 54; indigenous 

to the African nature, 256; 

beliefs and rites, 270; of the 

Lower Congo, 275 
Swedes, stories of, 231, 238 
Symbolism, evidences of, 278, 291 

Tabora, 199 

Tanganyika, 66, 179 

Teeth, mutilation of, 288 

Tete Clever, soldier, death of, 36- 
39 

Thracians, the, 287 

Ti n'deko, practice of, 279 

Time, native methods of reckon- 
ing, 278; no record kept of 
dates, 284 

Tinola, the story of, 91 

Tippo Tib- 
Raids of, 66, 98, 102, 111, 125; 
some characteristics, 66-67; 
follows Stanley's route, 125; 
occupation of Stanley Falls, 
127; the tusk of Litoi Linene, 
133; the compact with Stanley, 
182, 197 

Tobacco, wild, 296 

Tony of Kabinda, 11 

Traders, West African, 240 

Transport — 

Overland, 133; waterways, 215; 
Matadi to Stanley Pool, the 
time occupied, 217, manual — 
see Carriers 

Trials, the poison ordeal, 54 

Tribal marks. See Cicatrisation 

Tribes, in the Congo basin, 255; of 
the Great Forest region, char- 
acteristics, 259; means of clas- 
sifying, 264, 295 

Troup, John Rose, 180 

Tunduwa, mission station at, 247 

Uganda, 196 

Ujiji, 97, 159, 194; Livingstone at, 

195 
Uledi Pagani, story of, 193-200 



330 



INDEX 



Victoria, Lake, 181 

Villages, dwarf, 104; native, 256 

Vivi, 190 

Wadi Mozera, 196 

Waluheli, the, characteristics, 260 

Wamba, 139 

"Wanga," 159 

Warfare, tribal, 71 ; methods of the 
dwarfs, 103 

Washenzi, 103 

"Wasungu," 199 

Waterways, 215 

Watwa, the. See Dwarfs 

Weapons, 295 

Week-days, names of the, 294 

Weissmann, 67, 160 

White men, stories of, 231 

White Nile, source, 181 

White robes of the Arabs, effect on 
the savages, 74 

Witch-doctors, 4-6, 52; Yoka the 
sorcerer, 30 

Witchcraft, 271 

Wizards, 62 

Women, native — 

Plurality of, 1, 282; the wife's 
duties, 6-7, 282; the Basoko 
woman, 38; funeral ceremo- 
nies, 62; chiefs' wives buried 



alive, 64; marketable value, 
129, 293, 295; points of beauty 
in, 161; the "N'Kimba" rite, 
273; condition of, in the Congo, 
281; physique, 281; customs 
connected with child-bear- 
ing, 282; dress and ornamen- 
tation, 287; burial customs, 
290 

Wood for the steamer's engines, 
185 

Wooden images, 275 

Woog, Raymond, 298 note 

Yabuli, village of, 113; raid by the 

Manyema, 128 
Yambuya, 193; events at, 210 
Yangambi, the Manyema raid on, 

133-34 
Yoka the Sorcerer, 30 
Yukon, the, 247 

Zambesi, the, 253 

Zanzibar, 66 note, 67, 97, 195 note 

Zanzibaris, 153, 159, 165, 188, 193; 
Stanley and the, 178, 185; 
the Zanzibar porter, 222; in- 
fluence of the East on the 
language, 269 

Zinga, 198 



1.212 79 















A r - „ <J> 


































^ ' • " ° " A 







^ 



*U* 






A 



^ 




Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
"■''- Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
q Treatment Date: June 2003 

PreservationTechnologies 



Cranberry Township. PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 











/°- 
















O > 




K^ ^ 





^0^ 




#°* 




\* 







^ 








W 




o V 










A 




,0' 




4 o^ 






S 








^ 



& 



o V 




.* 






w 




WAY 7Q 

N. MANCHESTER, 
^ INDIANA 46962 









